


Among Friends

by secretswekeepxx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boys not dealing with emotions, Friends to Lovers, Harry Styles Being an Idiot, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Death of Minor Characters, Strangers to Lovers, dueling pianos, mentions of divorce, that awkward moment au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 13:52:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretswekeepxx/pseuds/secretswekeepxx
Summary: God. How is it possible that the three of them managed to fuck things up for themselves so thoroughly in such a short amount of time?Harry turns on the faucet, splashes some cold water on his face and hopes it’ll help clear his mind a bit. He does his best to avoid looking at the mirror; focusing instead on spreading toothpaste on his toothbrush. He doesn’t need to see his reflection to know that all of his mistakes are written on his face.Of course all it would take for the universe to align was to tempt it, and now, after three months, and a stupid, drunken pact made among friends, it feels like the stars are spelling out a giant fuck you three in the sky.Or the ‘That Awkward Moment’ AU where Harry, Niall and Liam make a pact, because being on your own is a great concept until it just isn’t anymore.





	Among Friends

**Author's Note:**

> There was a time when I thought this fic wasn’t going to happen. I’d like to thank all of the people who encouraged and helped me along so it could see the light of day.
> 
> To Cece for orchestrating this whole thing. Thank you for your kindness, understanding and encouragement. I’m so grateful that I had an opportunity to meet and get to know you through this experience, that I get to call you a friend now too!
> 
> To India, my fandom soulmate. Thank you for the amazing beta work, the endless cheerleading, and for allowing me to bombard you with this piece of work from the first word to the very last. I love you very much, a lot. 
> 
> To my group chat family, thank you for the encouragement and for being an amazing support system, always. 
> 
> Any mistakes from here on out are my own.
> 
> Please respect the fourth wall.
> 
> Please do not read this if you are under the age of 18.
> 
> To anyone who reads this, I hope you enjoy it. If you do please reblog the post on Tumblr, it can be found [here](https://theficwritersblock.tumblr.com/post/173812897392/among-friends-by-secretswekeepxx-25k-mature).
> 
> Thank you!!

**Present**

 

The apartment smells.

Harry can’t place where exactly the stench is permeating from – whether it’s something gone bad in the refrigerator, the trash not having been put out on time, or the mixed body odor of three idiots who are all incapable of getting out of their own way. If Harry’s being honest, it’s probably a combination of all of three.

“Smells fuckin’ awful in here…” he mumbles, mostly to himself. He’s been staring at the TV for what feels like days and his roommates haven’t done any better.

“It wasn’t me.” Niall grumbles from where he’s sprawled on the floor.   
  
Harry considers arguing – Niall’s t-shirt hasn’t been washed for at least three days, and has an impressive motley of stains from every meal they’ve had thus far – but refrains, he looks down at his own lap, noticing it’s in a scarily similar state. Apparently, he doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

Liam’s contribution to the conversation is a grunt from where he’s cocooned in a duvet on the other sofa, covered chin-to-toe in a blanket except for the one arm that’s continuously shoveling ice cream into his stupid face.

Ice cream. _Harry’s_ ice cream.

“Liam!” Harry barks, jumping up and pointing a finger at him accusingly. He steps on Niall in the process, who lets out a scream of protest that Harry chooses to ignore. “That is _my_ ice cream!”

The thing is, Harry knows – he _knows_ he’s overreacting, but they’ve already been walking on eggshells since the Horan Family Fiasco, so it was only a matter of time before something happened.   
  
Apparently today was that day, and the straw the broke the camel’s back was a half eaten pint of Ben and Jerry’s ‘The Tonight Dough’.

Liam doesn’t flinch, just looks from Harry to the pint of ice cream in his hand and then back to Harry.

“Three day rule.” Liam answers patronizingly, not breaking eye contact as he spitefully scoops up a giant spoonful and stuffs it into his disgusting gob, swallowing pointedly.

Harry feels his temper lick up his back. He reaches over Niall and into the mess of take out wrappers littering what used to be their coffee table, grabs the playstation remote that’s been buried there and chucks it as hard as he can at Liam.

Three things happen very quickly.   
  
One, the remote hits Liam right in the hand causing him to drop Ben and Jerry (and Jimmy Fallon).   
  
Two, Liam jumps up from the couch and lunges for Harry, at the same time Niall grabs Harry round the knees, successfully pulling him down. All three of them are suddenly on the ground rolling around wrestling in a knot of flailing limbs, grunting and swearing at each other as elbows and knees make contact with guts and groins, respectively.   
  
And three, the doorbell rings – just in time to stop Niall, mouth open wide as he goes in to bite Liam’s ankle.   
  
The loud, almost itchy, buzz brings the ridiculous scuffle to a screeching halt.

Harry’s sure their current state would be comical – three grown men frozen in place, the only sound their heartbeats thudding in their ears, and their heavy panting - until the buzzer makes another shrill sound snapping them out of their stupors and untangling their limbs as quickly as possible.

“Did anyone order takeout?” Liam asks breathlessly, staring at the apartments intercom as he hauls both Harry and Niall up off the ground.

Niall and Harry look at each other and then Liam shaking their heads no.

In that moment Harry knows they’re all thinking – _hoping_ – the same thing.

 _Maybe it’s for_ me _._

It’s Niall who moves toward the buzzer first. Looking over his shoulder with wide eyes before holding down the speaker button.  
  
“Hello?” He asks, mostly succeeding in his attempt to sound normal.

“Let me up. It’s Zayn.”

Niall doesn’t respond, just presses the button again, granting Zayn access before wordlessly flopping onto one of the couches face down. Harry looks at Liam and shrugs in resignation before excusing himself to the bathroom.

God. How is it possible that the three of them managed to fuck things up for themselves so thoroughly in such a short amount of time?

Harry turns on the faucet, splashes some cold water on his face and hopes it’ll help clear his mind a bit. He does his best to avoid looking at the mirror; focusing instead on spreading toothpaste on his toothbrush. He doesn’t need to see his reflection to know that all of his mistakes are written on his face.

Of course all it would take for the universe to align was to tempt it, and now, after three months, and a stupid pact made among friends, it feels like the stars are spelling out a giant _fuck you three_ in the sky.

 

**Three Months Earlier**

  
Harry wakes slowly, contented and starfished across his bed naked. He stretches his long limbs indulgently, but the warmth of the morning sun shining on his face is short lived when his toe meets with a solid...someone at the edge of his bed.

Against Harry’s better judgement he squints one eye open, and almost immediately, what felt like a perfect morning starts to melt away, the dull headache and the taste of last nights liquor on his tongue quickly evolving into a hangover.

He can tell by the unimpressed look on Adam’s face that there’s no way snapping his eyes closed and feigning sleep will get him out of whatever talking-to he’s about to receive. He supposes at least he can be grateful that he doesn’t have to play stupid, considering he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s in trouble for.

Harry heaves himself into a sitting position, not the least bit concerned about his nudity while his arms stretch out behind him bearing his weight, and putting _everything_ on display. He’s perfected this look - the sleepy soft, doe eyed, crooked smile look that says ‘ _come back to bed_ ’- and tends to get him out of many a sticky situation. Adam merely cocks his head to the side and raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow as they finally make eye contact.

 _Shit_.

Harry tries to ease the tension again by prodding his big toe teasingly into Adam’s behind, but unfortunately that doesn’t seem to do much to help his cause either. So, he steels himself and opts to quietly watch Adam, where he’s perched at the end of Harry’s bed, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

Adam takes one more look at Harry and sighs, rolling his eyes in resignation after taking in Harry’s clear confusion. Then, he opens with the dreaded question –

“So, I need to know – where is this going, Harry?”

_Fuck._

Harry’s frozen, mind whirring, thinking about how to respond. He has the sudden urge to pull the rumpled sheets up around his waist from where they’re pooled at his ankles. He’s never cared about being naked, but for some reason, he has a feeling this conversation might have the potential to make his dick want to shrivel up and die.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he says the first thing that comes to his mind.

“I think your an amazing guy, Adam…”

He’s interrupted almost immediately by Adam’s loud, exasperated sigh followed by - in Harry’s opinion - a series of slightly overly dramatic exclamations.

“That's it! I can’t do this anymore, Harry! I’m breaking up with you!”

Breaking up? _Breaking up?_

Harry imagines he looks like a cartoon character whose eyes have just popped out of their sockets in shock. He shakes his head to clear it and hopes he’s succeeded in schooling his features into something more neutral before finally finding his voice and asking, “Breaking up?”

Adam sighs again, “I’m sorry Harry, you're a nice guy and all, but I need somebody that’s ready.”

“Ready for...what?” Harry can’t help but ask aloud, completely confused.

Adam just throws his hands in the air in defeat, voice cracking a bit as he makes to exit swiftly through the bedroom door. “I can’t do this...I’m so late for work.”

Harry would typically follow Adam out, as he does with any of his overnight guests, but the apartment door is slamming before he even has a chance to move.

The thing is Harry’s confused...not about why Adam was breaking up with him...but because he hadn’t even _known_ they were dating.

Harry groans and flops backwards onto his bed, looking at the ceiling before finally dragging himself out of bed to shower and get ready for work. His confusion plaguing him even as he lathers up, rinses off and proceeds to towel himself down.

He continues to think about what happened that morning even as he makes his way out of his apartment and _supposes_ he can see where Adam may have gotten the wrong idea – they _had_ been hooking up a least once a week for the last month – but in Harry’s defence, that’s a _hookup_. They’d never so much as been on a date, and the _only_ bill Harry had ever paid for was at the bar, and well, that was just _polite_ when you were hooking up with someone…right?

Niall’s waiting for Harry at his desk when he finally makes it into work.

“You’re late,” he says.

“I’m only a little late.” Harry replies tossing his bag onto his desk chair before leaning against it, and turning to look at Niall. Niall makes a point of staring at the large clock on the wall across the room with an eyebrow cocked. If he’s waiting for Harry to take the bait, he’s going to be waiting a long time.

Niall must realize as much because in the next moment he’s turning to face Harry too.

“What the fuck took you so long?”

“Adam broke up with me.”

“Oh, shit! Man, that sucks I’m so sor – wait, who’s Adam?”

 

––––––

 

Harry doesn’t bother opening the door when he hears the three familiar knocks. Rather, he yells, “Come in!” in its general direction and hopes Liam knows enough to let himself in. Why Liam insists on knocking in the first place when he’s already been buzzed into the building will forever remain a mystery.

Harry doesn’t turn when he hears the door swing open and then a moment later slam shut, as he continues to rummage around in the refrigerator.  
  
“Thanks for letting me in.” Liam mumbles, setting down a full, reusable grocery bag on the counter just as Harry pops up holding three cold beers.

“Sorry!” He chirps with a smirk reaching out to pull Liam into a quick hug.

“Where’s Niall?” Liam asks over his shoulder.

“Probably taking a shit.” Harry responds dryly as he pops the top of his beer off and takes a sip.

“Niall are you taking a shit?” Liam calls out while he rummages through the bag in front of him before pulling out a pint of ice cream. “Throw that in the freezer for me would ya, Harry?”

“Ice cream?” Harry wonders aloud, shooting Liam a curious look as he takes the container from him.

“Hiya Payno!” Niall yells as he emerges from the bathroom.

Harry catches a whiff of piña colada Glade and sighs, just grateful that Niall had the decency to spray this time. Even if it means the apartment’s going to smell like artificial pineapple all night.

“Why is it that every time I come over you’re just finishing taking a shit?” Liam asks with a hint of amusement.

“You have bad timing.” Niall deadpans, completely unabashed as he throws himself haphazardly across one of the couches.

Liam’s face crumples at that, chuckling sadly, “You aren’t wrong there, Niall. You are not wrong there.”

Ten years they’ve known each other, Harry, Niall and Liam – since their freshman year in college – and while Liam has been known to have a tendency toward sensitivity, this reaction is definitely out of character.

“Liam?” Harry asks cautiously. “What’s going on?” He closes the freezer door and leans against it to look at his friend. He can see Niall sitting up with his arms crossed over the back of the couch, eyebrows arched in concern.

Liam just shrugs, perching himself sideways on one of the bar chairs at the island counter so he can see both Harry and Niall.

“Uhm...so today when I got home, Sofia was sitting in the living room with this guy I didn’t recognize.”

Harry makes eye contact with Niall over Liam’s head, already sensing where this might be going.

“Of course, I didn’t think much of it,” Liam continues, “she’s still working on her masters degree and there’s been plenty of times she’s needed to have a friend over to study.” He clears his throat and rubs his hands over his face before continuing warily. “But there was something different about this guy that just made me feel a bit off kilter.”

“How so?” Harry prompted gently.

“Well, um - first of all he wasn’t dressed anything like a college student. Too professional looking and put together. Also he was older, felt more like a professor than a classmate you know?”

“Sofie’s fuckin’ her professor?” Niall blurts out, eyes wide.

“Wha – no!” Liam groans. “Stop interrupting me!” he snaps before continuing, “So anyway, she starts introducing him to me as her lawyer.”

“Lawyer?” Niall mouths at Harry.

“So of course I asked if everything was okay and she goes on to tell me that she wants a divorce.” Liam chokes the last word out, like it’s stuck in his throat and he can’t get the air past it, when he looks back up toward Harry and Niall his eyes are shining with unshed tears, mouth set in a tight smile, “... and it’s because she met a really nice, successful, handsome guy that she wants to be with instead.”

“What the fuck!” Both Niall and Harry shout at the same time.

Harry puts his hand in Niall's face, full attention on Liam, “I’m sorry? She told you the guy she is leaving you for is nice and _handsome_?”

“Well no, I added that in…” Liam replies, running a hand over his short hair in agitation.

“Why?” Niall starts to ask, before he’s interrupted by Liam.

“Well, because Trevor _was_ nice and handsome, and he’s clearly quite successful too.”

“Wait,” Niall interrupts, slapping both of his hands flat on the countertop. ”Are the lawyer and Trevor the same person?”

“That’s what I just said.” Liam moans, bringing both his hands up to cover his face and slumping against the closed refrigerator door.

“Holy shit.” Harry let slip through his teeth.

“Liam, I still don’t understand why you would think the asshole that’s having an affair with your wife is nice?” Niall asks incredulously.

“Well, he did tell me how much he liked my shoes and seemed to be genuinely remorseful about putting me through any strife.” Liam spoke through his fingers.

Harry has no idea what to say, honestly, and considering that Niall seems to be paralyzed next to him, just standing there staring at Liam with his mouth hanging open, Harry knows he isn’t alone. It’s quiet for a few beats before Liam takes a deep, shaky breath and blows it out through his fingers slowly. He rubs his palms over his eyes a couple of times and finally looks up at them.

“Oh Liam.” Harry frowns, reaching across the countertop toward him, and then just deciding to climb over the island to get to him. Niall’s hot on his heels, and they crowd around Liam to give him a hug.

“What do you need?” Harry asks quietly, rubbing his hand across Liam’s back in, what he hopes, are soothing circles.

Harry feels Liam’s body relax a bit, before Liam asks, “Do you think I could stay with you guys for a little bit?”

For the second time that night, Harry and Niall speak in unison, with a firm, “Yes!”

 

––––––

 

Morning always seems to come a bit too quickly after a late night, though if Harry’s being honest, his late nights usually involve multiple orgasms and a pretty face so he typically wakes up feeling a bit more refreshed than he does today.

Instead of orgasms he and Niall traded in full nights of sleep for friendship, and stayed up until nearly dawn listening to Liam, offering shoulders to lean (cry) on.

Niall looks about ready to fall asleep on Harry, the familiar rocking motion of the subway commute tugging his eyelids lower and lower.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Harry asks, turning his body in his seat so he’s facing Niall, and moving his shoulder out of snuggling range.

“Hmm?” Niall grunts, steadying himself and looking over at Harry irritably.

“About Liam. And Sofia.” Harry clarifies, patting Niall a few times on the shoulder to help wake him up a bit more. “I just wish there was something we could do to help make him feel better.”

“There is.” Niall answers without hesitation.

Harry can’t help the skeptical look he shoots his friend. He’d never seen Liam so upset before. Moment’s when Harry thought Liam might just stop breathing all together, cause of death drowning in his own tears. Had Niall not been there last night and witnessed the same Liam that Harry had?

Niall must be able to read Harry’s mind because he smirks with a tired shrug and says, “We just need to get him good and fucked.”

Harry can’t help the laugh that he barks out, clearly disturbing a few of the other passengers who still aren’t fully awake yet.

“Niall!” He chastises giggling a bit, he’s going to go ahead and blame his lack of composure on how fucking tired he is. “I don’t think Liam’s just going to forget about his unfaithful wife and the friendly lawyer after a one night stand.”

Niall looks unbothered, swinging his messenger bag over his head and tucking his phone into it while the train approaches their stop.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Harry, a great fuck can cure anything. Even a broken heart.”

“Where does one find a fuck like that?” Harry asks, humoring Niall as he follows him through the sliding doors and onto the platform.

“We get him a hooker.” Niall says over his shoulder.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Harry squawks out, his surprise stopping him in his tracks momentarily. He catches himself quickly and rushes forward to keep in step with Niall. They’re emerging onto the street before Harry’s able to put a hand on Niall’s shoulder and pull him to a stop. “You’re joking right?” He asks slightly out of breath.

“About what?” Niall asks, looking genuinely confused. “There was an article in _Men’s Health_ about the modern day escort. Barely recognizable, well-dressed, nice apartment, drawer full of condoms –-”

“Illegal.” Harry remarks drily, a dose of reality to add to Niall’s long shopping list of hooker perks. “Not to mention this is Liam we’re talking about!”

“He wouldn’t even have to know!” Niall argues. “We’d pay them ahead of time, give ‘em a little extra to show him a _real_ good time. I bet Hail – ”

“No hookers, Niall!” Harry interrupts Niall’s train of thought by placing both hands on his shoulders and shaking him, hoping it’ll knock all the hooker nonsense out. “I’m going to assume this is temporary insanity due to lack of sleep and caffeine.” Harry shakes his head back and forth in disbelief, still holding onto Niall as he steers him toward the closest Dunkin’ Donuts.

Niall just shrugs again, muttering, “ _I_ thought it was a good idea.”   
  
He moves along easily as Harry maneuvers him through the thick throng of fellow morning commuters.

 

––––––

 

It’s been just over a week since Liam’s taken up residence in their apartment. What Harry and Niall had hoped would be a few nights of binge drinking and tears quickly turned into routine. Day after day Liam would arrive back at the apartment late in the evening from his shift at the hospital and, looking frighteningly similar to a kicked puppy, would proceed to pull out a pint of ice cream, put on sweatpants and cry into the couch cushions while watching rom coms on Netflix.

It’s a bad look and by Friday evening, when Liam walks through the door looking doubly upset with double the ice cream in tow, both Harry and Niall have had _enough_.

Harry decides its in the best interest of all involved if he’s the first to intervene, being decidedly more tactful than Niall.

“Everything okay?” Harry asks moving forward to lean cautiously against the counter, watching as Liam pulls out two pints of ice cream from a grocery bag. Liam’s eyes are already red-rimmed, which means he’d been crying on the way home. “We’re really worried about you…”

“I’m…” Liam interrupts, before cutting himself off and shaking his head, seeming to steel himself as he places one of the pints on the counter, and the other in the freezer. He clears his throat and wipes at his eyes before he starts again. “So, um, Sofia changed her status on Facebook today.” He sniffs miserably, leveling both Harry and Niall with a forlorn look.

“Facebook!?” Niall scoffs, before quickly snapping his mouth shut at Harry’s disapproving look.

“Yeah.” Liam nods, thankfully oblivious to Niall’s tone. “She changed it from ‘Married’ to ‘It’s Complicated’.” He sighs again, lips flattening into a straight line as he shakes his head. “My mother and both my sisters have already tried calling me asking what’s going on, and I just...I just can’t tell them yet. Not when I barely know what’s going on myself.”

“I’m so sorry, man.” Harry sighs, he feels awful for his friend, reaching out to give him a reassuring squeeze.

“Thanks, guys.” Liam mutters, “I’m sorry I’ve been such a downer lately. I just feel completely out of control right now.” Liam’s face changes then, the sadness melting away a bit to show something else burning underneath.

 _Finally_. Harry thinks. Anger they can work with. Get fucking mad, Liam!

“First she cheats on me,” Liam starts, and Harry can see his chest begin to redden with an angry flush. “And then, she has the audacity to have the guy sitting in the home we made together like he belonged there more than I did,” he seethes, “and _now_ she’s gone and made another decision. A decision that takes away _my options_ of how I want to tell my family and friends!” Liam slaps both his hands on the counter hard, breathing heavily.   
  
Harry does a silent cheer for a moment, before he notices how Liam visibly deflates again.

Harry deflates too, as he watches Liam reach for the ice cream yet again, though Niall manages to knock his hand away first.

“Not tonight, Payno.” Niall says firmly.

Liam looks forlornly from Niall to Harry, and then back down to where Niall is blocking him from the pint.

He sighs.

“I know I’ve been no fun, Niall, but I really just need this right now.” He says defensively, shaking Niall’s hand off gently and grabbing his ice cream.

Niall looks at Harry, his eyes begging him to do something to help but Harry just shrugs in resignation as Liam moves past them to assume his position on the couch.

 _Looks like it’s another night in for some Netflix with no chill,_ he thinks to himself, until Niall interrupts loudly.

“Liam, you know I love you, but enough with the ice cream and chick flicks already!”

Harry raises his eyes to the ceiling hoping that this won’t end up in an argument, but then decides it’s time he speaks up as well.   
  
“Seriously, man,” he says, trying to choose his words well. “This isn’t healthy.”

Liam’s back is to them, facing the TV but Harry can see his shoulders stiffen before he turns around looking annoyed.

“Fuck both of you!” he says, and Harry can feel his eyes bug out of his head. He barely has a moment to register what’s happened when Liam’s voice comes again, louder. “You two don’t get to decide what’s healthy for me or not!” He throws his hands up in the air, then, and yells, “I’m a fucking doctor, you know! Let me feel my feelings!”

Harry and Niall make eye contact from across the room, and Harry’s small, imperceptible nod is all the permission Niall needs to dive on top of Liam and subsequently wrestle the ice cream out of his hand.

“Hey! What the – get _off_ me Niall!” Liam huffs, trying to get a good enough grip to push Niall away. Unfortunately for Liam, Niall is scrappy, and the words have barely left his mouth before Niall manages to grab the ice cream tub in one hand.  
  
Liam and Harry watch in horror and amazement, respectively, as Niall catapults the frozen container through the apartment’s open window.   
  
They hear a bounce and crash from where it lands outside.  
  
“Fuck.” Liam swears, a horrified look on his face. “Niall, did you seriously just throw my ice cream out the window?”

“Fuckin’ right I did!” Niall cries, without remorse, throwing his hands up to mimic a touchdown.

“You’re _such_ an asshole, Niall.” He growls. It’s a little weak, and Harry is genuinely afraid Liam is going to burst into tears.  
  
Liam is still staring at the open window as tense silence fills the room, and Niall is already starting to look a little guilty, when Liam rounds on him.  
  
Harry’s expecting fury to color his face – expecting a full-on Hulk moment to go down – but instead Liam seems to be fighting a smile.  
  
“That was fucking awesome!” Liam exclaims.

“Yeah!” Harry cries, grabbing Liam by the shoulders from behind and giving him a little shake.

There are high fives and bro hugs all around, the earlier charge in the air dissipating slowly. When the three of them finally break apart, Liam sighs, resigned. “Okay, so if I’m not allowed to wallow tonight, what’s the plan?”  
  
Niall doesn’t even blink.

“We’re going out!” He crows. “Now, go take a shower and get dressed.” He says, slapping Liam on the behind. “You look disgusting.”

 

––––––

 

It’s just after ten when they finally make their way out of the apartment. Liam’s in a noticeably better mood – some might call it excited, even – and Niall’s practically clicking his heels as they make their way downtown toward their favorite bar.

“It’s been so long since I’ve gone out like this,” Liam says, his voice colored with disbelief. “I didn’t even realize how much I’ve missed it!”

“To be fair you’ve been married since you graduated college, so you haven’t really ‘been out like this’ ever.” Harry teases, pushing Liam’s shoulder playfully while Liam tries to swat him back.

“Actually, this is a great opportunity for us to have some fun.” Niall points out. “We’re all together and unattached. When’s the next time we’ll be able to do this?”

“Oh for God sakes, Niall –-” Liam starts to groan.

“No, seriously, he has a point.” Harry says slowly, putting his arms on both Niall and Liam to slow their walking to a halt. “This is a chance for all three of us to just _have fun_.”

“Exactly!” Niall agrees excitedly. “We’re in this together!”

“What does that mean exactly?” Liam asks hesitantly, half-chucking like he’s already bracing himself for Niall’s ridiculous answer.

“For as long as possible I propose that we all stay single.” Niall says.

“Nobody gets into a relationship.” Harry adds.

“Nobody changes their status.” Niall finishes.

Harry can tell that Liam is listening and taking what they’re saying into consideration, which frankly, wasn’t even a possibility twenty-four hours ago.

“I’m all in.” Harry declares first, throwing his hand in the middle of the circle of their bodies.

“Me too.” Niall says firmly, placing his hand on top of Harry’s and looking at Liam, “What do you say, Payno?”

Liam takes a moment to stare up at the sky before finally sighing.

“Oh what the fuck,” he says, smiling. “I’m in too.” He succumbs goodnaturedly, throwing his hand on top of the others.

 

\-----

 

Harry recognizes one of the guest DJ’s leaning against the wall outside DiNamics as they make their way toward the entrance of the club.

“Hey Zayn.” He greets with a smile and wave as they approach.

Zayn looks up, blowing out a puff of smoke before flicking what’s left of his cigarette to the ground and grinding it out with the toe of his boot.

“How’s it going, bro?” he asks, bumping Harry’s fist and reaching around to do the same to Niall. When he notices Liam hovering awkwardly behind them, Zayn offers his hand accompanied by a friendly, “‘M Zayn, don’t think we’ve met.”

Harry sends up a silent prayer, and is pleasantly surprised when Liam forgoes his usual ‘obligatory lecture’ on the dangers of smoking, and instead grasps Zayn's hand.

“Liam,” he says, introducing himself with a confidence Harry hasn’t seen since the Sofia fall out. “Really nice to meet you.”

“You here for tonight’s set?” Zayn asks casually, looking between the three of them while moving to hold the door open as they all make their way inside.

“Yes, definitely!” Harry nods as they step into the darkness of the club.

DiNamics was one of Harry’s favorite places to go on nights out. It had a little bit of everything, and he means that quite literally since it’s _the_ bisexual club to go to and be seen at. Harry hadn’t even known there was such a thing until he and Niall quite literally stumbled upon it one night when Harry spotted the Bi-Pride flag hanging outside the door.  
  
Harry quickly figured out that the place has a warmth about it that he had never found anywhere else. Maybe it was the pink, lavender, and blue lights that reflected off the shiny wooden surfaces of the bar, illuminating the whole room in a sultry, sexy glow, or maybe it was just knowing that he could be himself there, he’s not really sure. But ever since that first night, every time he walks in, it feels a bit like coming home.

But DiNamics wasn’t just housing a cool, accepting, safe LGBTQ community. Between their dueling pianos, and open mic nights, the club had an amazing music scene, and Zayn was just one of the many sought after DJs the club had on rotation.

Harry and Niall are basically regulars now – frequenting the bar every other night or so – but Harry likes to think their near constant presence provides enough entertainment that they’re endearing, rather than pathetic. Well, he hopes so, anyway.

After the bouncer checks their IDs and they begin making their way toward the bar, Harry can’t help but notice that Zayn and Liam are still chatting politely side by side. Harry sticks close to Niall watching quietly until Zayn gives a last friendly wave and makes his way toward the dance floor to reclaim his throne at the turn tables.

Niall’s already leaning over the bar counter gesticulating animatedly to their friend, and favorite bartender, Hailee.

Hailee smiles and shouts a, “Hey guys!” over the noise of the room, not pausing as she continues to muddle and strain some fuchsia colored concoction behind the bar.

By the time Harry’s taken a seat, Niall’s already placed an order for the first round of shots, to Liam’s chagrin.

“Can’t I just start with a beer?” Liam groans, leaning his back against the stool next to Harry and crossing his arms.

Niall, who already has a hard time using an inside voice under normal circumstances, shouts, “NO!” while bouncing excitedly as he watches Hailee layer various liquors into their three shooters.

“Here you go, boys.” she grins, brushing a stray piece of hair from her forehead. “Three, _Pieces of Ass,_ to start your night off right and send a message to the universe.” Winking as she slides the drinks toward them with a flourish before moving on to help another patron.

Niall blows her a kiss, and passes the glasses out.

“Bottoms up!” Harry toasts, trying to contain the smirk that’s trying to fight its way onto his lips.

Niall and Liam groan in unison.

“Here’s to Payno getting laid!” Niall proposes, reaching out to clink all of their glasses together even as Liam rolls his eyes.

“Cheers!” they echo.

Harry thinks it already feels like a good night, as he gulps down his drink.

He orders them a round of beers when Hailee comes back, asking her to start up a tab for them. Niall’s off making the rounds the moment his beer lands in his hand.

Typically, Harry would be doing the same, but for the first time since they left the apartment, he notices Liam looking a little apprehensive again. So, even though it feels like there’s never been so many attractive people in the club (he blames Zayn Malik’s cheekbones), he opts to stay with Liam in the hopes that some solidarity will help ease his friend back into the scene a bit.

“I like it here.” Liam comments quietly with a soft smile, not taking his eyes off of the DJ booth where Zayn’s just started his set for the evening. The deep bass of a Weeknd song is opening up the dance floor for those who have already begun to pair off – a slow, grinding dance that will likely make the transition from the club to a bedroom before the night is through.

Harry’s eyes move from where he’s been watching the dance floor to look up at Zayn too, and is surprised when he finds that the DJ is already looking in their direction – at Liam – a playful smile on his lips.

“He’s quite pretty, isn’t he?” Harry asks conversationally.

“He is.” Liam agrees, finally dragging his eyes away from Zayn to Harry. “I’ve done pretty,” he says sadly, “and look where it got me.”

When he laughs it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. It was a pretty girl that got you into your mess. Perhaps you need to change things up a bit. Pretty boys are where it’s at, and I’m speaking from experience. Not only do I happen to be one myself, I’ve fucked a fair few too.”Harry says it to lighten the mood a bit, and is pleased to see it seems to have worked since Liam’s mouth drops open and eyes widen in mock surprise.

“You?” he asks sarcastically, hand clutching at his chest, “I don’t believe it.”

The thing is, Harry’s only half kidding. He’s never had his heart broken by any of the guys he’s ever dated, though in retrospect, he’s never stuck around long enough to let someone hurt him. That’s not the point though.

He thinks Liam probably just needs a change, and he can’t think of a better one than hooking up with a pretty guy. It might be good for him, especially since he doesn’t think Liam’s been with a guy since college – since before he met Sofia.

Liam seems to at least consider Harry’s suggestion, humoring him with a short “We’ll see.”

Harry winks at him and slides off his stool.

“What do you think? Want to come check the place out?” he asks grabbing his beer.

“Nah. Think I’m going to hang back here a little longer, if that’s alright.” Liam says, smiling easily before shooing Harry away when he notices him start to hesitate.

Harry gives him a thumbs up and, deciding that hovering over his friend isn’t going to make Liam any less nervous, starts making his way through the crowd. He doesn’t even make it to the end of the bar before Niall sees him and waves him over to where he’s chatting with Hailee, who’s taken up a stool next to Niall while on a break from her shift.

“What do you think?” Niall asks, nudging his head in Liam’s direction as subtly as someone like Niall can manage.

Harry shrugs.

“He seems okay so far. It’s his first night out, think he’s just trying to ease himself back into it.”

“Well, getting to watching someone as hot as Zayn perform on your first night out is a nice way to start.” Hailee supplies, chin in her hand for emphasis while sighing dreamily.

“Woah!” Niall scoffs comically. “Re-lax!”

Harry and Hailee both start laughing when Niall makes a show of looking up at Zayn and pretending to faint, as though he doesn’t see what the appeal ist.

It’s almost the perfect setup – except Niall didn’t mean to set it up at all this time. In the midst of his dramatics he bumps directly into a pretty blonde girl trying to walk by, spilling her drink in the process.

“Shit!” Niall gasps, immediately reaching out to steady her, “I’m so sorry!”

Harry quickly grabs a handful of napkins from the bar and passes them to Hailee who’s jumped in to help run interference, or something along those lines. She and Niall have been choreographing the wing-man/woman dance for as long as Harry can remember.

“Ohmygosh!” Hailee rushes in, handing the girl some napkins. “My friend, Niall, here is such a klutz sometimes!”

The girl graciously accepts the napkins to dab at her blouse

“Oh, um, that’s okay.” she says, still looking a bit put out, though at least it doesn’t look like she wants to hit Niall anymore.

“What were you drinking, hon? I work the bar, I’ll get you a fresh one on the house.” Hailee offers sweetly, though from the way she says ‘on the house’ it’s very clear that the drink will be added to their tab. Harry figures it’s only fair and notes the imperceptible nod Niall gives in acknowledgement as well.

“Washington Apple, please.” The girl answers with a small smile.

“Coming right up!” Hailee chirps over her shoulder. “Niall while I’m making…” Hailee looks at the girl fishing for a name.

“Lexi…” she supplies shyly.

“Lexi.” Hailee smiles, “Niall, help Lexi here finish cleaning up.”

Harry doesn’t need to hear what line Niall proceeds to use on Lexi next because it’s in that moment that Hailee taps him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Don’t look now,” she whispers conspiratorially., “But there’s a really cute guy over there looking at you.”

“Where?” Harry asks, keeping his eyes trained on Hailee as she starts working on Lexi’s new drink.

“Nine o’clock.” Hailee says, nodding her head just slightly in the direction she’s indicated.

“Can I look yet?” Harry asks, not waiting for Hailee’s answer before he turns.

Now, Harry knows that he can be dramatic at times – can often make something out of nothing – but when he looks over his shoulder his eyes meet an electric blue that makes the world stops on its axis. Everything around him goes into soft focus, with the exception of the very, very, _deathly attractive_ man staring back at him. Harry’s already on his way over when he decides he’s literally going to die if he doesn’t get to leave with him tonight.

Their eyes don’t leave each other as Harry maneuvers smoothly around the bar, pushing through the throng of bodies that are still moving to whatever song Zayn’s playing now.

“Hi.” Harry smiles, pulling out all his boyish charm, his cheeks dimpling as he runs a hand through his hair, in a move he knows highlights the bulge of his bicep, without it looking intentional.

The man’s eyes are magic, and Harry thinks then that he wouldn’t be able to look away even if he wanted to. That thought, coupled with the itch he’s felt under his skin since the moment their gazes met, sends a zing of fear down his spine – like he already knows he’s playing with fire with this one. For some reason, he can’t bring himself to care.

“Hi.” The guy answers with smile that reaches his eyes, making them squint a little.

Harry already wants to kiss him. Fuck.

Harry’s about to ask for the guy’s name when another man steps between them.

“Hey, gorgeous, let me buy you a drink.” Cockblocker says boldly. “What are you drinking, a vodka soda?” he raises two fingers, beckoning the closest bartender over without waiting for an answer.

Harry’s eyes widen in surprise at the blatant interruption, causing Blue Eyes to laugh while he tries to politely decline the other man’s offer.

“No, thank you. Already have a drink.” he says, smiling sweetly and holding up a mostly full tumbler glass.

“Oh c’mon, let me buy you a drink. You were lookin’ so lonely over here all by yourself.” he answers, without taking his eyes off of the bartender who he is still trying to summon over.

Blue Eyes looks a little less friendly when he responds again, voice firmier.

“Thanks again for the offer, but no.” His eyes flash back and forth pointedly between Harry and the man between them, to emphasize his meaning. “And for the record, I wasn’t lonely, or alone.”

It’s only then that the other guy turns to look at Harry, making brief eye contact and then quickly looking him up and down before shrugging. “Suit yourself then.”

Harry’s eyes bulge and his mouth drops open in offense as the man walks away without another word.

“Suit yourself!?” He says aloud in disbelief.

Blue Eyes claps a hand over his mouth, a wicked glint sparkling in them as he starts shaking in laughter.

“Oh God!” he laughs. “Could he have been more of a jerk!?”

Harry can’t help but laugh, too, despite his insulting encounter.

“What a pretentious dick.” he supplies, before reaching out a hand. “I’m Harry, by the way. I’ll learn from his mistakes and introduce myself properly before I try to buy you a drink.”

“Louis.” Louis answers with a loaded smirk. “Lucky for you, manners will get you everywhere with me.” He lifts his drink to his lips and sucks it down, his eyes never leaving Harry’s even as he licks the last bit of remaining flavor from his lips.

Harry’s mouth is dry and his cock zooms past semi-interested to high alert so fast he feels dizzy. It isn’t until Louis smiles shyly and cocks his head in question that Harry snaps out of his stupor and nearly jumps over the bar to get someone’s – _anyone’s_ – attention.

Hailee rushes over to the rescue when she sees Harry flail.

“What can I get you?” she asks, smiling between Harry and Louis.

“Two double shots of patron, please.” Louis requests before Harry can even open his mouth to ask Louis what he wants.

Hailee looks at Harry and smirks, saluting obediently and turning on her heel to grab the bottle of Patron behind the bar, measuring out equal shots carefully.

The heat of Louis’ stare, coupled with the clear ‘I’m game if you are’ message his order is sending have Harry’s mouth running dry.

Yes. God, yes! He’s so down for this. Even if he _does_ tend to be a little more sloppy with tequila, a lack of inhibitions in the bedroom never hurt nobody. Right?

When Hailee places the shots in front of them, they come with a small plate, two lime wedges, and a shaker of salt.

“If you’re going to shoot Patron, you may as well do it right.” She winks, before turning on her heel and skipping away to fulfill someone else’s alcohol induced wishes like some kind of liquor fairy godmother.

“Thanks, love!” Louis calls out, sliding one of the glasses toward Harry and pulling is own toward him. He adjusts the way he’s sitting on the stool and slides to the edge so his legs are tangled with Harry’s.

Louis makes a show of licking a line along the back of his hand between his thumb and index finger, his eyes twinkling like he knows exactly what he’s doing as he reaches for the salt and sprinkles it on his split slick skin. He picks up one of the lime wedges and looks at Harry expectantly.

Harry quickly scrambles to do the same, surprising even himself when he manages to not fumble and spill any of the clear liquor that’s inevitably going to make his night fuzzy.

When he’s finally picked up his shot and raised it to salute Louis, Louis makes a move that’ll go down in the history books as one of the hottest things Harry’s ever seen. He grabs Harry’s salted hand and licks the crystals off with one quick swipe of his tongue, before offering Harry his hand in return.

Harry’s heart does a little jig inside his chest. He thinks, if Louis is already this hot taking shots in public, Harry wasn’t going to stand a chance alone, in a bedroom, with the freedom to use their tongues on more intimate body parts. Harry’s sure to hold Louis’ gaze as he follows suit and licks the salt off of Louis’ hand as well, then offers his own shot glass up to Louis by placing is to his bottom lip with just a touch of pressure.

Louis loops his arm through Harry’s and holds his shot glass in front of Harry’s mouth.

“Here’s to tonight.” Harry murmurs, tipping the potent liquid down his throat in one quick and practiced motion, chasing it quickly with a bite of his line wedge to ease the burn, watching with rapt attention as Louis sucks deliberately at his own wedge.

Louis places the used rind back on the plate pushes the empty glasses out of reach. He slides off of his stool so both of his feet are on the floor and his navel is pressed against the very obvious line of Harry’s denim clad cock.

Harry has to close his eyes for a moment and breathe. God, he’s so used to being the one who plays it cool and has all the moves that he’s having trouble wrapping his mind around how affected he is. He _needs_ to keep his head about him.

His eyes are still closed when he feels Louis rise up onto his toes slightly in order to speak into Harry’s ear.

“Hey, do you want to maybe go somewhere quieter, where we can...talk?” Harry can hear the intonation in that last word and he knows what it means, nodding and leaning forward in hopes that he’ll be able to catch Louis lips in a kiss that answers for him.

Unfortunately in that moment, Harry feels Louis move away. He snaps his eyes open quickly, looking up to see what changed and why. Louis is only just out of Harry’s reach, a irritated frown on his face while he listens to someone Harry doesn’t recognize speak into his ear, the stranger’s hand grasping Louis’ upper arm.

Harry has a flashback of what happened with Mr. Suit Yourself earlier and decides to intervene in case it’s another situation of unwanted advances.

“Everything alright?” he asks, coming to stand just next to Louis.

The man talking to Louis pauses to look at Harry, and then looks back at Louis, giving his arm a squeeze before letting go.

“We’ll be waiting outside.” is the last thing he says before giving Harry a little smile and wave and moving back into the crowd that he must have appeared from.

Louis visibly deflates and so does Harry’s cock.

“I’m so sorry.” Louis sighs, rubbing at his eyes a little like he’s trying to emerge from the same fog that Harry’s been drowning in since their gazes first met. “I’m here with a bachelor party tonight and everyone’s ready to move on.”

“Do you have to go?” Harry practically whines, embarrassed at how desperate he sounds as soon as it’s left his mouth.

Louis smiles, that same smile that reaches all the way to his eyes – might even be the source of all light in the room.

“Sadly, I do.” He makes a show of sighing grandly. “Wouldn’t be much of a best man if I didn’t.” he says with a slightly frustrated laugh.

Harry can’t help but laugh at that too, resigned at the thought of another night alone.

“Will I see you around?” Harry asks, reaching out to brush his fingers across the top of Louis hand.

“Maybe.” Louis says coyly, walking backwards a few steps before giving Harry a final wave and disappearing into the crowd.

It takes at least a minute of people bumping into him before Harry gets his wits about him again and drags himself back to the bar, immediately slumping onto the bar top and putting his head on his arms.

“I didn’t even ask for his number.” he moans to himself.

“Don’t worry babe, he’ll be here on Monday.” Hailee chirps patting him on the head and pushing a glass of ice water toward him.

“What?” Harry asks looking up and reaching for the water, only just realizing how dry his throat still is. “How do you know?” he asks, as what she said sinks in.

“He’s our new pianist for duel nights.” she answers nonchalantly with a smile playing on her lips.

Harry’s mouth drops open in shock.

“But…” he gasps, pointing at her accusingly, “you pretended like you didn’t know who he was!”

“You think I only wing for Niall?” she winks. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.” And with that, she’s scurrying off to take someone else’s order.

Harry’s still trying to make sense of how his night turned out when Liam approaches him saying his ready to head home.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Niall is nowhere to be found.

 

——-

 

Harry doesn’t love the smug look on Hailee’s face as soon as she spots him walking into DiNamics the following Monday evening.

He’d honestly considered playing it cool and waiting another week or two before popping in on a night Louis was supposed to be there. Unfortunately, four days worth of Louis’ face popping up while he got himself off begged him to reconsider

They’d fuck, Harry told himself. Maybe even a few times – just long enough to get one another out of their systems before moving on. That’s the way it typically went with Harry, though he had to admit, Louis’ first impression had been anything but typical.

“Evening Hails.” Harry greets, sliding onto the closest stool. “I’ll just have a coke for now, please.”

“No Niall tonight?” Hailee asks as she gets Harry his soda.

“Don’t think so.” Harry answers, scratching an eyebrow while scanning the area, hoping he’s not too obvious. “He stayed late at work tonight to finish up a project, and Liam’s working a double at the hospital.” he shrugs, sipping his drink. “I just needed to get out for a bit.”

“Right.” Hailee agrees with a smirk, eyes looking briefly over the top of Harry’s head toward something behind him.

Harry thinks he probably knows what – or more likely _who_ – Hailee is looking at, but he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him turn around and look, too. Instead, he schools his features into something impassive and tries to engage her in light conversation about the rest of her weekend.

It works until Harry hears the tinkling of piano keys, a mishmash of multiple tunes played together, all of which Harry recognizes but happen in such quick succession that he can’t pinpoint them.

“Good evening, DiNamics!” A soft, raspy voice speaks through the clubs stereo system. “My name’s Louis, and my friend, Stefani and I are hoping to provide you with some much needed entertainment this Monday evening.”

As if on cue the other pianist keys in the notes from the song, ‘Manic Monday’, which is received by some laughter and clapping.

“We’re going to start the night off with a few of our favorites.” Louis continues brightly. “But we’ll also be taking requests, so if there’s a song you want to hear us play, and I do mean _any_ song, go ahead and fill out a form and pop it into the bowl for us.”

Stefani uses that moment to play Shock Horror’s famous, “Duh, Duh, Duh” on her piano.

There’s a brief pause before Louis counts them off and they jump into their first duet of the night. Harry can’t even pretend to _not_ be captivated anymore as they start playing Queen’s ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’.

Louis was like a magnetic force just sitting at the bar, his mere existence pulling Harry into his orbit without a second's hesitation. Tonight is no different, only now, Harry has to be content with watching from afar. Sitting on the edge of his stool, Harry’s body still leans in toward Louis’ beautiful figure behind the piano. Harry gets lost in watching Louis perform and play off of his partner and it’s not long before Harry finds himself singing along to all the songs.

In fact he’s so caught up in the show that he doesn’t realize that Louis has even noticed him in the crowd until he takes the lead on George Michael’s ‘Faith’. From the moment Louis starts playing the opening notes his eyes are on Harry.

“Well I guess it would be nice, if I could touch your body,” Louis croons, eyes never leaving Harry’s as a mischievous smile lights up his face. “I know not everybody, has got a body like you.” He finishes the lyric with a little shrug and wink before peeling his eyes away from Harry and focusing his attention back to the crowd that gathered on the dance floor.

When Harry comes back to himself it’s because he can hear Hailee giggling. He snaps his mouth (which had fallen open) shut and twists around to shoot her an unimpressed look while she continues wiping down the bar with a smug smile.

“You’ve got a little something, right there…” she gestures toward Harry’s chin and then makes like she’s going to use the bar rag to wipe at drool.

Harry bats her away, but still reaches up to his chin to wipe at it – you know, just in case.

“Oh stop!” Harry grumbles, though he can’t help but laugh along, can only imagine how he might have looked to an outsider with his mouth hanging open and eyes bulging.

He has no idea what’s gotten into him with this guy; but he has a feeling Louis will continue to be an itch under his skin until he can finally get his hands and mouth on him.

“You know they take requests.” Hailee mentions nonchalantly with a twinkle in her eye. “Seems like Lou’s made his interest known, perhaps you can return the favor?” She pulls a pad of song request slips from under the bar and hands Harry a pencil with a wink.

Harry immediately pulls his phone out to search Google: _song lyrics that say ‘I want to fuck’_ ; and begins poring over the results while Hailee looks over his shoulder adding in her two cents until her own phone lights up and she excuses herself with a soft smile.

Harry almost feels guilty for not paying attention to the next three songs performed, but is immensely proud of his song choice and has fully prepared himself for the smoulder he’s about to unleash on Louis as he swaggers straight through the dance floor to slide his request face down across the top of Louis’ piano with a smirk.

Louis raises his eyebrows, their fingers brushing for a moment when Louis picks up the paper and flips it over to read it.

“Nice choice.” Louis nods, a knowing smile playing on his lips and, to Harry’s delight, a slight flush on his cheeks.

Harry makes his way back to his stool at the bar, looking over his shoulder with a playful smile, just in time to see Louis turn to speak quietly to Stefani, tucking Harry’s song slip (with _all_ of his requests listed along with his phone number) into his back pocket.

It’s another two songs before Harry hears the notes of the song he requested start to play.

“Here’s a special request and the answer is, me too.” Louis says staring directly at Harry as he starts to croon, “I’m so into you, I can barely breathe.” of Ariana Grande’s ‘Into You’.

 

\-----

 

Apparently Harry was wrong, though he supposes it’s okay if it means falling into bed with someone night after night feels this right.  
  
The itch he felt prior to bedding Louis Tomlinson was far from gone, and now, he was completely under Harry’s skin. Harry can’t seem to stop going back for more. It’s a feeling he’s never quite experienced with his regular hookups and he thinks it probably has to do with how _good_ Louis is.

Harry had gone back to Louis apartment, just as he’d hoped after the first night with the dueling pianos and Harry’s found himself – and Niall, and even _Liam_ – coming up with reasons to head to DiNamics every weekend, and lately most weeknights, too.

And each night that Louis happens to be working, Harry just happens to make his way home with him.

Tonight is no different.

“I’m going to jump in the shower quick, if you’d like to join.” Louis tosses lightly over his shoulder as he makes his way toward the small bathroom.

Harry turns his head, watching Louis’ gloriously bare ass bounce gently as he makes his way into the small bathroom. He’s just coming back to himself after having Louis attempt to suck the life from him through his cock, rendering him so completely useless Louis had laughed at him while he’d had to finished himself off all over Harry’s stomach and chest.

It wasn’t one of Harry’s best moments. It wasn’t his worst either.

“Can you just toss me a warm washcloth when you get a chance?” Harry calls after him. “I can’t move my legs.”

Louis laughs at that. “You’re as dramatic as those curls strewn across my pillows.”

“M’not being dramatic.” Harry pouts, listening to the running water in the bathroom, though he’s still unprepared when Louis does toss a damp cloth at him, shrieking a little when it slaps wetly onto his face.

Pulling the cloth from his face, he begins to dab at the sticky mess decorating his body. He can hear Louis cackling as the sound of the shower fills the small studio apartment. It’s quickly followed by the sound of the shower curtain opening and closing.

Harry finally regains feeling in his limbs and swings his legs out of Louis’ bed, rubbing at his face and looking around the floor to see if he can locate his briefs. It’s in that moment that he realizes he’s never had the chance to properly look around Louis’ apartment.

It’s a nice little studio, exactly what Harry would expect – a bed, nightstand, and dresser in one area, a small kitchen with an island and two stools in another, and a loveseat and small coffee table facing a TV that’s been mounted on the wall. And, of course, the bathroom.

The only difference between Louis’ place and every other studio in the city is that he’s somehow managed to squeeze a piano into it – placed carefully near the window, overlooking the street outside and park beyond.

For the first time Harry’s also noticed the smattering of framed photos that decorate the tiny flat. If Harry wasn’t one hundred percent sure Louis was gay, he might’ve been a little concerned by all the beautiful smiling women staring back him from the photos. There was a mixture of old and young, blonde and brunette; some photos with Louis, others without. Harry slowly makes his way from frame to frame, examining them. He’s so caught up in trying to piece together what Louis’ childhood might have been like that he doesn’t notice that the shower’s stopped, or that the bathroom doors opened, until Louis is suddenly behind him, placing a gentle hand on Harry’s waist and pulling him back into his chest.

“Whatcha doin?” he asks quietly into Harry’s ear.

Harry picks up the picture frame he’d been examining, to show Louis.

“Looking at your pictures.” he admits easily. It’s a photo of Louis and a woman Harry assumes is his mother. Taking a shot in the dark with a teasing smile he adds, “Anyone ever tell you your mom is hot?”

Louis laughs quietly, taking the photo from Harry’s hands to look at it. “So, _so_ many people, I can’t even tell you. She was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the out.”

Harry’s heart drops, turning in Louis arms so he can face him properly, a wave of apologies on the tip of his tongue.

“It’s okay.” Louis says softly. There’s a warm smile on his face, one that reaches all the way up to his eyes and makes them crinkle a bit; even though the sadness shines through the blue.

“Lou…” Harry starts.

He should be better at this, should know what to do in situations like this, or at least how to not get himself into them in the first place. Truth be told, if this happened with anyone else Harry probably would apologize, make his excuses, and hightail it out of there while trying not to punch himself in the face for being so callous.

He still kind of wants to punch himself in the face, but instead pulls Louis into a hug and plants a sweet kiss to this forehead.

“I’m so sorry.”

Louis pulls away just enough to look up at him.  
  
“Thank you.” he says, sincerely. “She was lovely and there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss her with everything I have, but you don’t have to be sorry about what you said. Honestly, she would have loved it.” He reaches up and runs a hand down Harry’s jaw reassuringly, and rising up onto his toes to bring their mouths together for a tender kiss and to replace the framed photo on the dresser.

Harry rests his forehead to Louis’ and slowly walks them backwards toward the bed so they can crawl under the covers. He follows Louis down when the backs of his knees hit the mattress and he tips over.

Harry arranges them under the covers. They’re both still naked, Louis never getting the chance to pull on clean underpants after the shower and Harry never actually finding the pair he had set out to look for initially.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asks quietly, head cushioned on Louis’ chest, over his heart.

“She was my best friend…”

Harry listens intently as Louis tells him about his mother Johannah’s wonderful life, and untimely death two years prior, after she lost her battle with cancer. Harry’s happy that Louis can’t actually see his face as he allows the emotions to wash over him, all of them too familiar – dormant feelings he doesn’t want to awaken.

When they finally fall asleep it’s with Harry running his fingers through Louis hair where his head is pillowed on his chest.

It’s a moment when it feels like it’s _more_ and Harry can’t process that, made a pack that he wouldn’t and even if he hadn't doesn’t want it himself...he tells himself before he finally closes his eyes that he needs to start weaning himself off of Louis Tomlinson.

 

——

 

It’s been two weeks since the night Harry found out about Louis’ mother. Two weeks since that very emotional, very charged, very not-something-you-have-with-a-casual-hook-up-night. So in a valiant effort to distance himself, Harry’s only slept with Louis once since, and only been to DiNamics twice. God, he deserves a medal.

He promised himself he wasn’t the least bit attached, promised himself he’d find someone else to share a bed with for the night, and so, in a show of supreme strength, Harry had bowed out of going to the bar with Niall and Liam and ended up at a different club. He’d met another pretty boy, and was fully prepared to leave with him; but when the time had come to seal the deal Harry had made excuses and scrambled from the club with his tail between his legs.

To add to that, he’s been completely blocked creatively, too. He cannot, for the life of him, come up with a composition for the jingle for the real estate commercial he’s been assigned, everything he strumms turning into a cheap Ed Sheeran knock-off, and he downright refuses to turn in that kind of quality.  
  
Long story short, he fully blames his sexual frustration for his writer’s block.

He finally snaps after a long day, locked away in his tiny studio, nothing to show but a few riffs of absolute shit. He snatches his phone off the small table, where it’s been taunting him all day, and types out of quick text.

_You around tonight?_

He hits send before he can second guess himself. Getting his musical mojo back is more important than his pride or even a pact, and he has a feeling that Louis Tomlinson might just be the quickest fix.

It’s another fifteen minutes of agonizing frustration in the studio and staring at his phone when he finally gets his response.

 _Come over whenever_.

Harry arrives at Louis’ place within thirty minutes – and it only takes Louis five minutes to realize something’s wrong. Harry wants to _die_.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Louis attempts to soothe him, shuffling up toward the pillows where Harry currently has the quilt pulled to his neck and his arms covering his face. His throat burns like he might cry but he’ll be damned if his tear ducts betray him the way his cock just did.

“This has literally never happened to me before.” he moans into his arms, not allowing Louis, who has moved to straddle Harry’s chest, to pry them away from his face. “Give me five minutes and you won’t know what hit you, I just need to grab a Viagra out of my bag.”

Louis immediately stops wrestling with Harry.

“Why the fuck do you have a Viagra in your bag, Harry?” he asks with a startled laugh.

“Oh, God, please don’t laugh right now.” Harry pleads, though he can’t help but laugh a little too, moving his arms to rub at his face with his hands. He’s still avoiding eye contact with Louis even as he chuckles, “Niall managed to get his hands on some a while back - No, I don’t know how - and gave Liam and I one each. I think Liam spit his out once he realized it wasn’t a mint, but I decided to keep mine in case of an emergency.” He finishes his explanation with a very pointed look toward his very flaccid penis. “I’d say this counts.”

Louis looks at Harry like he’s an absolute idiot, and then proceeds to say, “Don’t be a fucking idiot. You don’t need a pill for erectile dysfunction! There’s obviously something bothering you, what you need is to talk it out.”

 _Fuck_ \- this is supposed to be a hookup. This is supposed to be the super casual sex he needs to help him clear his mind so he can get back to work. Talking about what’s on his mind sounds so, _so_ the opposite of casual.

“I don’t…” he starts to protest, sitting up to make up a reason to escape with whatever shred of dignity he can keep intact.

Louis holds up his hand about a centimeter from Harry’s face, stopping his response.

“Lucky for you.” he enunciates each word clearly. “I have these things – ears, you know – great for listening. Also, I’m not planning on moving until you start talking.”

Harry’s eyes snap down to where Louis is still straddled over his chest, Louis’ crotch clad in fuschia boxer briefs in his immediate line of sight. He can’t help the whimper that escapes him when he notes that Louis’ own cock seems to have flagged in interest too. When Harry finally rolls his eyes all the way up to meet Louis’, he’s flushed with embarrassment all over again.

Louis’ eyes are soft and his smile is gentle. When he reaches out to brush a curl off of Harry’s forehead, his own brow is wrinkled with concern.

“Stop.” he murmurs, brushing his fingers down the side of Harry’s face until he’s cupping his chin and bending down to catch Harry’s lips in a sweet kiss.

And Harry does.   
  
How can he not when Louis’ lips are brushing against his as a means of comfort rather than a demand of pleasure. So he succumbs and allows the invisible strings that have been holding his body and mind taut to snap so he can fall into Louis.

The kiss doesn’t last long, but when Louis pulls away, Harry feels like he can breathe a little better than he has all week.

“Come on.” Louis says, throwing a leg over Harry’s side so he can vault off the bed, holding out a chivalrous hand to help Harry up too. “I want to take you somewhere.”

Harry’s protests did very little to deter Louis from dragging him out of the apartment and across the street into a little gated park that Harry never noticed before. The sun’s just gone down, leaving a sliver of the day’s shadow on the horizon, light blue against the black of night, a silhouette of the city as the street lamps slowly flicker to life.

They only walk for a few minutes before Louis breaks the silence with a dramatic, “Ta-da!” holding out both arms like he’s Vanna White, pointing to a park bench like it’s a ten thousand dollar prize.

“It’s a bench.” Harry points out dumbly.

Louis raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“This bench just happens to be _my_ thinking bench, you should consider yourself lucky to make its acquaintance! I’ve had many a brilliant thought here, and cried many, many tears. And you know what?” he asks giving Harry an expectant look.

“What?” Harry supplies, smirk playing on his mouth for what feel like the first time in days.

“The bench always makes me feel better.” Louis answers simply, plopping his bottom down and extending an arm over the back of the seat and tilting his head in a way that makes it perfectly clear that Harry’s meant to sit next to him.

When Harry finally sits he can see why Louis likes this spot. It’s overgrown just enough to make it feel enchanted, but not so much that Harry can’t see Louis’ building just beyond the trees. It’s like an oasis only, instead of a desert, it’s in the middle of a city, and instead of unbearable heat, Harry can feel the crisp bite of a early Spring night on his skin.

“So…” Louis starts, staring pointedly up at the clear night sky. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

“Suppose I have to now, don’t I?” Harry responds, with a soft laugh.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, ever.” Louis says earnestly. “I’m here if you want to talk, maybe I can help. But if you don’t want to talk and just want to think or even just clear your mind, I’m happy just to be here and keep you company.”

His smile is warm and as sincere as Harry’s ever seen, and he can’t help but knock their knees together.   
  
“You’re really great, you know?” Harry asks.

“So I’ve been told.” Louis grins and they both laugh until Louis relaxes back on the bench, looking up at the sky, patient as a saint.

They sit in amiable silence for a few more minutes until Harry can’t take it anymore.

“I’m having a hard time getting back from a creative block at work.” he says to the trees in front of him. “I’ve never felt blocked like this before and I just don’t know what I can do to move past it.”

“What are you having trouble with?” Louis asks, turning his body so he’s fully facing Harry.

“I can’t compose a tune for the commercial I’m working on without it sounding totally generic and uninteresting. Nothing feels right, like everything has already been done a million times before.”

Louis looks dumbfounded for a moment, placing a hand on Harry’s chest.   
  
“Seriously? You’ve never once, in the time we’ve been fucking, ever managed to mention you’re a _composer_.”

Harry’s mouth drops open in surprise too, wracking his brain. He was sure he’d mentioned something about what he does for a living to Louis, but he comes up short.

“I guess I didn’t think is was important?” Harry answers with a shrug.

“Harry, I literally play the piano at music bar four nights a week and you didn’t think mentioning that you also work in the music business was information I might find interesting?” he asks with a bewildered laugh, shaking his head. “You’re something else.”

As they sit in silence for a few moments, Harry genuinely worries that Louis might be upset. Until Louis turns to face him.

“I’m not a composer, but I’d think it would be hard being creativing something when you have nothing to inspire you.” Louis says with a thoughtful expression.

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean, when you’re in a studio there’s nothing but you, your thoughts, and your instrument...and sometimes that isn’t enough.”

Harry hums, thinking about what Louis is saying, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

“Okay, so what do you have to work with so far?” Louis asks, pulling one of his legs up underneath and arranging himself in a more comfortable position on the bench.

“Nothing.” Harry answers.

“Nothing?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Nothing. My brain is empty, my well of creativity is dry, I’m a washed up...”

“Okay!” Louis interrupts. “That’s enough dramatics for this evening. If I’d have known you were going for an Oscar tonight I would have tried to dress more appropriately.”

Their laughter peters off into thoughtful silence until it’s broken by Louis again.

“You know what your problem is?” Louis asks.

“That I suck at my job?” Harry asks, feeling the need to wallow in self-pity this evening.

“No, you idiot. You think you’re just going to come up with a great idea, but you’re not even allowing yourself to have bad ideas. You’re not allowing yourself a creative process. Because sometimes something that starts out as ordinary manages to evolve into something extraordinary.”

Harry just nods. He knows Louis is right but he’s tired and he just wants it to be easy. He’s about to suggest they head back to Louis’ place, or maybe even that he heads home. He’s had enough frustration and embarrassment in the last twenty-four hours to fuel him for a while. But then Louis’ hands are on his shoulders and he’s pulling Harry down to lay on the bench so his head is pillowed in Louis’ lap.

“Just,” Louis says, fidgeting a little under Harry’s weight until he’s comfortable. “Close your eyes, relax, and let go. No pressure, no expectations, just open your mind to all of it’s creative possibilities.” he says in a soothing tone while running his fingers through Harry’s hair.

“You sound like some kind of crunchy yogi.” Harry chuckles.

Louis schools his features to emotionless zen.

“Ohmmm.” he hums, before bursting into giggles. “Sorry, sorry.”

They sit quietly with Harry strewn across Louis’ thinking bench and in his lap, while Louis hums quietly, fingers tangled in Harry’s curls. When Harry finally allow his mind to let go he takes in the juxtaposition of the sounds around him – the softness of Louis’ humming, mixed with the rustling of the trees, and the spring songs of the crickets and peepers, and just beyond, the whirring and beeping of traffic, doors slamming and radios blaring.

When it finally hits him, he can’t believe he didn’t think of it sooner. He sits up so quickly his head spins, but he needs to get it on paper before he loses it.

He must have a wild look in his eyes because Louis doesn’t ask any questions, just says, “Let’s go!” and quickly leads the way back to his building. He’s handing Harry a spiral notebook and pen before he even has to ask.

It takes a few minutes of humming and tapping it out on the table and with his feet, but when he finally has it down, the physical proof of it in front of him, he can’t help but start laughing, the relief of finally being out of his slump feeling like a drug. When he looks up, Louis is there laughing too.

“You’re losing it, I think.” Louis smiles through his laughter, continuing to putter around his apartment like he had been before.

Harry’s on him before he even knows what’s happening himself, grabbing Louis by his perfect ass and boosting him up so he’s wrapped around Harry the way he’d hoped it would happen earlier. He’s biting at the place where Louis neck and jaw meet, and growling, “Now, I get to properly thank you!” and tossing him effortlessly onto the bed.

Louis bounces with the force of it, looking equal parts surprised and turned on when he asks, “For what?”

“For being you.” Harry answers without thought, because it’s the truth, and Louis deserves to hear it.

 

——-

 

As it turns out Harry is not great at staying away from Louis, but insists that since they’re still just hooking up, it’s totally fine.Or it _was_ totally fine, until Louis asks Harry to attend a party for one of his younger sisters birthdays and Harry happily accepts without thinking twice.

Which is how he finds himself in his current predicament, Niall and Liam completely relentless since Harry told them where he was going. .

“Never in my _wildest dreams_ did I think it would be you who’d cave first!” Niall crows pointing a triumphant finger at Harry while doing some kind of Irish jig.

Liam isn’t nearly as obnoxious, but seconds Niall’s sentiment anyway.   
  
“I’d have bet my life on Niall.”

“Me!?” Niall asks incredulous, “Why would you think it would be me, I figured it would be you!”

“When’s the last time you spent a weekend night in your own room?” Liam asks sensibly.

Niall’s mouth drops open comically, “Doesn’t mean I’m spending my night in only one person’s bed.” He snaps, turning his attention back to Harry quickly. “Unlike this one – this is the most monogamous he’s been since we’ve met him, Payno!”

Liam rolls his eyes at Niall but nods in agreement, “It’s true.”

“Oh fuck off!” Harry groans, “So I’ve been sleeping with the same guy for a stretch. He’s gorgeous, has the most perfect ass I’ve ever encountered and he’s an excellent fuck! I’d be crazy not to go back for more, but do you want to know what the difference is?” he asks, as his friends stare back at him with open skepticism. “I can walk away whenever I want, there are no strings attached! We’re just two hot, red blooded men that enjoy sex and are fully enjoying each other, we’ve never even been on a date!”

“Apparently when you fuck long enough you get to skip dating and fast forward straight into meeting the family.” Liam remarks in a tone that insinuates he knows everything and makes Harry want to punch him.

“Also, don’t think I didn’t notice you called yourself hot too, asshole.” Niall tacks on.

“I’m sorry, Payno, but if I recall correctly you’ve been wedged up a certain DJs ass sideways for just as long as I’ve been hooking up with Lou and there were three different nights last week that I know you weren’t working and never made it back here to sleep.” Harry points out, effectively putting Liam in the hot seat.

 

Liam’s clearly caught off guard and sputters a bit before answering indignantly, “I like Zayn! He’s as smart as he is good looking and a good friend too.”  
  
“Right, _‘friend_.’” Niall chimes in using air quotes.

It’s all getting a bit out of hand and Harry’s still trying to get ready.

“As fun as this little interrogation has been, it doesn’t change that Louis and I are only hooking up. Our bro-pact or whatever the hell you want to call it is still on, and I certainly won’t be the first one to blow it!” he finishes with a decisive tone. He looks between his two friends in what he hopes is an intimidating manner so they’ll shut up and leave him alone.

It’s a bit of a standoff until Niall finally shrugs and reaches for the remote and flings himself onto the couch, muttering something along the lines of, “Someone’s got their panties in a twist.”

Harry throws an empty solo cup at his head and retreats back into the safety of his room so he can get ready. The sound of Niall and Liam’s laughter follows him in..

Not much later as Harry’s just finished brushing his teeth and spritzing on a bit of his cologne, the door buzzer goes off.

That’ll be Louis then, he thinks as he makes a dash for the door yelling, “I’ve got it!” Only to see that Liam’s beat him to it.

“Hello!?” Liam calls through the system.

“Hello!” Louis voice answers cheerily through the tinny speaker. “Can you buzz me in?” he asks, just as Harry wrestles Liam out of the way.

Liam gives Harry an unimpressed look. “The fuck was that?”

Harry bats his hands in Liam’s direction shushing him.

“Hi Lou, it’s me.” Harry call’s into the speaker. “I’m ready now, I’ll just meet you downstairs!”

Harry takes the lack of response as consent as he goes to grab his wallet, keys and phone off the counter.

“Oh-ho-ho, that was cold!” Niall comments from where he’s looking at Harry over the back of the couch. It’s meant to be a taunt, but Harry detects a hint of something – something _sad? –_ in Niall’s tone. _Weird._

“It was not.” Harry snaps defensively.

“It was.” Liam tells Harry, suddenly grumpy. He turns to Niall. “Looks like we were wrong about them.”

Harry doesn’t have time for their bullshit. He strides purposefully out the door, only stopping to dramatically yell over his shoulder, “Don’t wait up!” before letting it slam shut behind him.

The whole way down to the foyer he can’t shake the disappointed looks on Niall and Liam’s faces as they watched him from the other side of the door.

Louis is leaning against the side of the building when Harry emerges.

“Hey,” Harry greets him, crowding into his space to give him a peck on the lips.

“Hi.” Louis answers with a curious smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You were in quite the hurry to get out here weren’t you?”

And the thing is, Harry isn’t stupid. He knows what Louis is implying, but Niall and Liam were annoying him, and he’s already anxious about the party tonight so he says the first thing that he thinks of.

“Yeah, I’m sorry! I just didn’t want to make us late for the party.” he reaches out and gives Louis’ hand a reassuring squeeze, trying to distract him. “You ready to go?” he asks, hoping that that’s enough.

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand back and laces their fingers, his smile is warm but there’s still a lingering question in his eyes as they make their way down the street.

 

\-----

 

The first words out of Louis’ mouth as soon as his sister Lottie opened the door are, “This is Harry. Please, be nice.”

Harry can’t help the nervous thrill he gets when he sees the mischievous smirk take over Lottie’s face or answering groan from Louis as soon as he realizes his mistake. In the meantime the other three sisters have closed in as well, like beautiful sharks that have scented blood in the water.

“Felicite.” Louis gestures toward a pretty brunette, who smiles kindly at Harry. “Daisy and Phoebe.” Louis continues, toward the youngest of the four women, identical twins who both smile and hold their right hands up in a little wave of greeting, as perfect mirrors. They’ve got a bit of _The Shining_ thing going on, Harry thinks if the walls start bleeding he’ll probably run.

They all crowd around their Louis first, hugging him and peppering him with kisses. Harry thinks he might even see one of them pinch Louis’ cheek as Louis starts swatting at them, “Get off!” while wiping off their rainbow of lipstains.

Harry finds himself laughing at Louis’ expense, though the laugh dies in his throat quickly when he realizes the sharks have rounded on him.

“Oh.” he breathes out, as Lottie’s perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his wrist and she gives a little tug.

“Come on, Harry.” she smiles sweetly. “Let’s get you a drink.”

The other three move in behind him, creating a literal barrier between him and Louis, looking over his shoulder at Louis with wide eyes, as Louis is intercepted by a man Harry assumes is Lottie’s boyfriend.

“Don’t be scared.” Felicite smiles reassuringly. “We’re mostly just trying to get a rise out of Lou.”

“Mostly?” Harry laughs cautiously as he’s pulled down onto a couch. Lottie and Felicite taking seats on either side, while one of the twins perches across from him on the coffee table and the other scurries to a cooler to grab him a beer.

“Blue Moon, alright?” she asks, handing Harry the bottle.

“Perfect, thanks.” he smiles nervously, taking a sip and hoping they’ll take pity on him.

“I’m Daisy.” she smiles, just as the other twin says, “Don’t be nervous, we’re just excited because Louis never brings guys to meet us.”

“We think the big family thing probably freaks a lot of them out.” Felicite adds.

All the pretty heads bob in agreement. It’s equal parts mesmerizing and terrifying.

“Well, he did bring home that one asshole.” Lottie continues thoughtfully. “Remember him?”

“He was awful.” Phoebe groans.

“Why, what’d he do?” Harry can’t help but ask, equal parts wanting to get the attention off of him a bit, and wanting to know more about who Louis might have dated in the past.

All four sisters make eye contact and Harry instantly regrets asking.

“He was just hyper masculine.” Felicite starts, rolling her eyes.

“Mmhm.” Lottie hums in agreement, narrowing her eyes at Harry. “You know those guys, Harry? The ones that can’t stand the idea of their own femininity, even a little bit?”

“Uhh…” Harry starts to answer dumbly, before he thinks better of it and just asks, “Is this some kind of test?”

There’s a mixed chorus of “Yes!” and “No!” but he can’t figure out who said what, before they all burst into laughter.

Felicite is the one that speaks up while the others continue to giggle.

“Sorry, Harry, no. It’s not a test. The guy was just a wicked jerk. He was so weird about certain things that he wouldn’t even let us help him with his halloween makeup!”

Harry feels himself make a face. “What? Seriously?”

“Yes!” All four chime in.

“Felicite and I both work as makeup artists and he was dressing up as a member of KISS.” Lottie laughs, though she still looks irritated as she thinks of it.

“Well, I have no issues with makeup,” Harry is happy to answer. “I even wear nail polish sometimes!”

It’s a male voice that chimes in this time, “Well, that was a mistake.”

It’s Lottie’s boyfriend who lifts a hand and shows Harry his own, perfectly manicured nails. “The smaller ones are getting their licenses as nail technicians…”

Harry looks from the manicured hand to the twins across from him who look like they might burst with excitement.

“Could we practice on you?” Daisy bursts out, just as Louis is finally making his way over.

“Which one of you sent Danielle over?” he asks, looking accusingly around the circle of faces, climbing over the back of the couch and lowering himself into the barely there spot between Lottie and Harry. “Push over.” he snaps at Lottie. “She just asked me on another date. This is the third time I’ve told her I’m gay, I think she thinks I’m lying.”

Everyone bursts into laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Louis says, though he’s giggling. “It’s mortifying, I feel bad for her. Also, what are we practicing.”

Harry’s about to fill Louis in on the conversation when Lottie beats him to it.

“Harry was just agreeing to let the twins practice their manicure techniques on him.” She’s watching Harry’s face closely as she says it, and he knows for sure it is a test.

“Glitter nails!” The twins shriek in unison.

Harry feels Louis go rigid beside him, is sure that Louis knows this hazing routine by heart, so Harry does the only thing he really knows how to do in situations like this – he charms.

“Bring on the glitter nails.” Harry laughs, holding out his two hands to the twins while wiggling his fingers, and giving Louis a reassuring wink.

Louis reaches for Harry’s wrist, “You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.” Harry answers honestly. “They have a _test_ coming up soon. I would hate for them to fail their test.” he says pointedly, looking around him at the four sisters as his dimple pops out.

“Nobody is failing anything.” Felicite answers, squeezing Harry’s shoulder.

By the end of the night Harry’s nails are lacquered with inky black glitter that have a holographic greeny-purple-blueish effect. He’s also a lot tipsy, and he’s a little bit in love with four very mischievous women, his previous anxiety all but forgotten until the end of their night.  
  
It’s well into the early hours of the morning when Louis and Harry stumble around the front hall of Lottie’s house, hugging everyone goodbye.

“It was so lovely meeting all of you.” Harry says, squeezing each of them tight..

“We’ll see you again soon, I hope.” Felicite says warmly as she returns the hug, both the twins nodding their agreement behind her.

“Yes, of course!” Harry answers immediately, no questions asked. .

Lottie takes her turn, leaning in, and then looks over her shoulder to check that Louis is occupied by the twins. She looks Harry dead in the eye.

“Take good care of my brother’s heart.” she says quietly, and Harry suddenly feels his own climb into his throat at her words. “He doesn’t give it to many people.”

Mild panic starts to simmer, low and itchy in Harry’s veins, just as Louis takes his hand and intertwines their fingers, pulling him gently out the door.  
  
It’s the second time that night that they’re walking hand in hand, and they make their way up a few side streets until they get to the main road.

“So…” Louis starts, tone light.

Harry turns to look at him, one arm up in the air, hailing a cab.

Louis waits until he has Harry’s full attention, leaning against a newspaper stand, when he asks, “Your place, or mine?” There’s still the hint of a slur in Louis’ voice after having a few drinks, and while his smile is nonchalant, the question is loaded.

Harry smiles back softly, gathering him up in his arms and giving him a tender kiss on the forehead just as a cab is pulling up to the curb in front of them. “Let’s go to your place tonight. It’s closer.”

When Louis pulls away to look up it’s with pinched lips and narrowed eyes, and Harry finds himself preparing for an argument. Somehow it feels worse when Louis’ face transforms into something guarded, and he shrugs in resignation.

“Okay.” he nods, slipping out of Harry’s arms and ducking into the cab.

Harry’s still on the sidewalk and can hear Louis rattling off his address.

“You coming?” Louis asks.

“Yeah.” Harry answers slowly, cautiously. “If – you know – you want me to?”

“Of course I do Harry.” Louis answers with a hint of exasperation, scooching over in the back seat to make room.

The ten minute ride to Louis’ apartment is mostly quiet, and Harry doesn’t push it, hoping it’s enough time for Louis to forget about his irritation.

Unfortunately, Louis is not going to make it that easy on him. He discovers this very quickly once they’re inside the apartment, when he moves in to suck a bruise into Louis’ neck and feels Louis’ body go rigid at his touch.

Fuck. _Fuck!_

There’s no way he’s going to be able to avoid the conversation and he really doesn’t want Louis to be upset with him.

So Harry reluctantly pulls himself out of Louis’ space and asks, “Are you okay?”

At first Louis nods, and Harry feels relieved for a moment, thinking it’s actually going to be brushed off. But then Louis is looking up at Harry intensely, though his voice is dripping with uncertainty when he asks, “Is there a reason you don’t want to bring me to your place?”

“Of course not.” Harry answers quickly, reaching out in the hopes of soothing him, but Louis pulls away again.

Louis cocks his hip and raises his eyebrow defiantly.

“Really?” he scoffs, gaining traction. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that everytime we’re together, we end up at my place. Not to mention, you kind of drove the point home earlier tonight when you weren’t even willing to buzz me up for five minutes. Also, my apartment was not closer tonight, which is why we decided to meet at your place earlier in the first place.”

He’s breathing heavily, his earlier calmness gone, giving way to impatience and hurt.

“Louis…” Harry tries to interrupt, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace and taking a step forward.

Louis takes a step back, arms crossed over his chest defensively.

“I know it’s not your roommates, considering I already see more of them than I’d like at the club every week.”

“No, no!” Harry tries again. “Of course not, Niall and Liam think you’re great!” Harry takes two quick steps forward, touching Louis’ shoulders lightly. “I’m so sorry I made you feel that way. It’s not you, it’s me.”

Louis looks at Harry is disbelief, as Harry realizes he’s made _another_ mistake and scrambles to explain himself.

“It’s just – I just mean that I’d rather come to your place because I like it here. And like, as it is my apartment is feeling cramped because Liam’s staying with us, and Liam’s going through a divorce and I just feel weird parading my sex life in front of him…”

It’s all empty excuses, every single one of them, and Harry’s surprising even himself by how easily they slip off his tongue. Probably because they’re all a little bit true, even if they’re not the exact reason.

The thing is, Harry doesn’t really know why the idea of having Louis at his place makes him feel uneasy. He’s had plenty of guys over in the past, falling into his bed at all hours of the night and sneaking out early in the morning. It’s never bothered him.

Earlier tonight, it was simple – he didn’t want Louis to come up because Niall and Liam were on his case about their… well, their _situation._ And every other night? Well, he had always assumed they went Louis’ place after DiNamics simply out of habit.  
  
But tonight, the moment Louis had asked him about it outright, Harry felt himself seize up. He had no excuse, tonight – not when Louis clearly wanted to go back to his place, not when his roommates probably weren’t even home.

In fact, the best way to have avoided this argument all together was to simply give in – to take Louis home, ease his worries, and have a fun fuck, Harry _knew_ that. But he picked the alternative anyway.

There’s no reason for it, he has nothing to hide. And yet, the thought of Louis in his apartment, in his bed, around his things, was making his throat close up like an allergy.

He didn’t want to think about why – why letting Louis in seemed so hard. It’s too loaded a thought, and it’s one Harry’s just not ready to explore.

Thankfully, Louis seems to have accepted his reasons, though he’s still not fully pacified.

They don’t have sex that night – a first since they started hooking up.

Harry wakes with the sun and has the urge to sneak out, to run like he would have with any other person that pressed him. But he can’t seem to bring himself to do that to Louis.

“Hey, Lou,” he whispers, once he’s fully dressed, crouching next to the bed where Louis is still sleeping.

Louis grunts and opens an eye.

“I’m going to head out, shower at my place and get ready before I head into work.”

It takes a moment for the information to sink in before Louis eyes open wider, a question there as he reaches out to grab Harry’s hand.

“I’ll text you later.” Harry reassures, placing a soft kiss on his temple.

Louis nods, biting his bottom lip, watching silently even as Harry closes the door behind him.

 

\-----

  
  
After a long week, and a less than ideal ending to the weekend, Harry finds himself at DiNamics on a Wednesday evening desperately in need of a drink, and of Louis’ company.

The dueling pianos are already going, and Harry can hear Stefani carrying the lead on a Madonna medley as he makes his way to the bar. Waving a hello to Sage, one of the bartenders, he takes a seat on the stool closest to the dance floor.

“Evenin’” Sage greets, leaning casually against the counter. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Harry grins, tapping his fingers on the bar along to the beat of the music filling the club.

“How’s it goin’ man?” Harry asks, reaching out to bump his fist.

“All good here.” Sage smiles, grabbing a rag from below the counter and wiping at some condensation on the bartop. “Typical weeknight, Wacky Wednesday never brings ‘em in quite the way Thirsty Thursday does, but your boy does a good job of getting the place filled anyway.”

Harry looks over his shoulder in time to make eye contact with Louis, who winks in greeting, he and Stefani about to go into their ‘Like a Prayer’ duet. It’s one of Harry’s favorites, and always a crowd pleaser.

When Harry turns back to the bar, Sage already has a drink waiting for him.

“Thank you,” Harry sighs happily, taking a sip. “Is it just you tonight?” he asks, making a point of looking around the club.

“Sam is coming in to help close in an hour.” Sage answers with a shrug, “Like I said, Wednesday’s are pretty low key.”

Harry hums his acknowledgement around another sip of his drink. “No Hailee? I haven’t seen her much of her lately.”

Sage looks up at him with an odd expression when he asks, “You haven’t?”

Harry doesn’t quite know what to make of it so he widens his eyes and answers with a perplexed, “No?”

Sage just hums to himself and shrugs.

“She’s been around, you probably just keep missing her. You know, two ships passing in the night or something.”

“Oh...kay?” Harry chuckles confusedly, as he watches Sage make his way toward the other end of the bar to greet some of the new arrivals.

Louis is chatting to the crowd and opening up the room for requests, and Harry can’t help but smile, thinking about the first night he and Louis went home together. He also can’t help but chuckle at his own expense when he remembers how desperate for Louis’ attention he’d been that night. He tries to make eye contact with Louis again, tries to see if he can communicate this thoughts telepathically, when he notices that Louis’ crinkled eye smile is directed at someone else – and that that someone else happens to be a very handsome man at the front of the dance floor.

Harry’s full attention is now on the scene in front of him. Louis is flirting, and Harry probably shouldn’t care, but he does – he really, _really_ does. A green flare of jealousy jolts through him, making him want to stalk over to Louis and tall and dreamy–-

Instead he raises a hand in the air the way some of the more obnoxious patrons do and flags down Sage to ask for a double shot of whiskey.

“Oh boy.” Sage chuckles, looking over Harry’s shoulder to where Louis is playing and the man is dancing, while he fixes the drink. “Looks like Andy’s back again.”

“Who’s Andy?” Harry asks quickly, already annoyed at how eager he sounds for the information. So much for playing it cool.

Sage slides Harry his shot, and gestures toward the man who is swaying his hips provocatively in front of Louis, while singing along to _‘Toxic’_.

“Andy’s has had his eye on your Lou for weeks now.” Sage answers matter-of-factly, laughing as he watches Andy’s antics. “Don’t think you have anything to worry about – he’s fun to look at but doesn’t have much game.”

Harry nods, watching as Andy does whatever he can to consume Louis attention.

“I’m not worried about it.” Harry answers, slightly delayed, choosing to focus on that part of Sage’s sentence, instead of _‘your Lou’_ , no matter how much it’s ringing in his ears _._.

By the time Louis is wrapping up their set with one of the crowd favorites, ‘Don’t Stop Believing’, Harry is practically vibrating in his chair. He wants to get his hands on Louis and stake his claim, in front of Andy, as well as anyone else in the club who might want to steal Louis’ attention.

Harry doesn’t actually realize how drunk he is until the end of the night when he slides off of his seat and stumbles, his stupid feet betraying him. He can hear Sage and Sam cackling behind him, and makes sure to flip them off over his shoulder before he makes his way toward Louis, irritated that this Andy character has decided to hang around too. Harry can see him talking animatedly to Louis, even as Louis watches Harry approach with a knowing smirk.

“Hey babe.” Harry greets, placing a possessive hand on Louis waist. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he says smiling sweetly at Andy. “But are you ready to go?”

“Babe?” Louis mouths at Harry, his face lit up with amusement.

“Oh, hi?” Andy looks from Louis to Harry and back again, suddenly uncertain.. “Sorry, I didn’t realize –-” he starts.

“No worries, man!” Harry interrupts quickly, effectively beating Louis to whatever response he was opening his mouth to give. He starts to maneuver Louis away from Andy, even as Louis calls out a friendly, “Have a good night, Andy!” over his shoulder..

Though Louis doesn’t stop Harry from dragging him out of the club possessively, he’s nearly doubled-over in laughter before they even get to the door.

He’s still laughing when he finally asks, “Where are we going?” as Harry pulls him toward a waiting cab.

“Home.” Harry answers, ducking into the cab, pleased to see that Louis is sliding in right behind him. He turns to give his address to the driver, and then Louis is slinging his leg over Harry’s lap and pinning him to the back seat with a biting kiss before Harry’s even had a chance to situate himself. Not that he cares much about anything once he has two hands full of Louis’ ass.

The cab driver looks less than amused when he pulls up to the curb outside Harry’s building, giving Harry an expectant look as he watches him dig into his wallet and pull out a $20.00. Harry sheepishly hands it over as a tip before scurrying out of the cab after Louis. He hopes it’s enough considering he’d been about three seconds away from coming in his pants in the back seat.

Louis is already waiting by Harry’s building door, doing his best to hide his erection from the unsuspecting passersby. Harry’s too drunk for something as silly as basic decency so he doesn’t even attempt to hide his arousal as he pins Louis up against the door to finish sucking a bruise on his neck.

It takes a scandalized shriek from a young woman trying to exit the building to finally get them to pull apart and scurry to the building’s elevator. They end up on the wrong floor twice, and when they finally find Harry’s door, Louis’ pants are unbuttoned, Harry’s shirt is half off. It takes three tries before Harry finally gets his key into the hole correctly to unlock the door.

“Go, go, go…” Harry whisper shouts, pushing Louis toward his bedroom, as though anyone in a fifty foot radius wouldn’t have already heard the commotion. Not to mention, the apartment is pitch black, meaning that it’s likely nobody's home anyway.

“Your place is really nice…” Louis starts, before Harry’s plastered himself to him again and is tumbling them into his bed, grinding his hips into Louis purposefully even as he reaches into his nightstand drawer to grab a condom and some lube.

_Shit._

“Shit!” he curses.

“S’ wrong?” Louis slurs, hands deftly working on Harry’s flies.

Harry flips his side lamp on distractedly, and opens the drawers wider to look inside.

“Where the fuck is all my stuff!?” he snarls.

He has Louis’ attention now.

“Tell me you’re joking.” Louis moans, having just pulled Harry’s cock out.

Harry gives a frustrated yelp that makes Louis laugh, even as he pulls himself gently out of Louis’ grip.

“Hey!” Louis whines, dragging out the ‘y’ and making grabby hands for Harry. “I was using that!”

Harry rolls his eyes affectionately, making a show of wiggling his hips as he shimmies out of his pants, and dances out of the room naked calling over his shoulder, “Give me one minute!”

“I know you can do better than that!” he hears Louis call as he exits the room.

Harry checks the bathroom first, irritated but not surprised when he finds his brand new bottle of lube half empty and perched on the side of the bathtub along with three of his sexy time candles. He was going to have to have a chat with Liam about touching his stuff and using it for sad bath wanks.

Unfortunately, there’s still not a condom in sight which means he’s going to have to delve into no man’s land and check Niall’s room, which could potentially take a lot longer than a minute.

He knocks on the door quietly before cracking it open and peeking in. Unsurprisingly, the room is pitch black and empty, just like the the rest of the apartment had been, though Harry’s very pleasantly surprised to find that Niall’s room, which is usually condemnable, is neat as a pin.

It crosses his mind that he needs to really try to find out where Niall’s been spending so much time, and with whom, as he digs through Niall’s night stand and does a triumphant happy dance when he finds an abundance of condoms, grabbing a handful to take along with the other supplies he’s collected, practically running back to where Louis is waiting for him in his room.  
  
“You better be naked!” Harry is shouting as he crosses the apartment. “You’ve had more than enough time–”

Harry stops short when he notices that his bed is empty, whipping his head around in confusion until his eyes find Louis, still fully dressed with the exception of his flies gaping.

It’s only when Harry sees what Louis is looking at that his stomach drops.

When Harry’s eyes move from the card in Louis’ hand up to Louis’ face, it’s obvious that Louis’ put the pieces together.

“Oh, Harry,” he says quietly, sadly. “I’m so sorry.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, just watches Louis cautiously as he slowly places his haul onto the bed.

When it’s clear that Harry isn’t going to say anything Louis continues.

“This wasn’t even a year ago. Why didn’t you tell me?”

For some reason, it’s _that_ question, the blatant contrast of empathy and accusation that causes something to snap inside Harry.

His body language is defensive – this isn’t a conversation he wants to have while naked; this isn’t a conversation he wants to have _at all_. The idea of sex right now is suddenly nauseating; he has the urge to cover himself up, already feeling too exposed but not wanting to draw more attention to himself either.

If he were anywhere but his own room he’d have fled by now, but he can’t – he’s feeling trapped and caught out and attacked and the only thing he can think to do is react.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks hollowly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I mean, why didn’t you tell me about your father dying?” Louis is looking down at the card in his hand again before looking up at Harry sadly.

Harry levels Louis with a look of faux surprise.

“Louis, why would I tell you about that?”

Louis’ mouth drops open a mixture of confusion and hurt dancing across his features before he squares his shoulders.

“Because I told you about my mother? We had an entire conversation about it, remember? You probably could have slipped in a ‘gee, I can totally relate because I, too, lost a parent recently’!”

When Louis finishes his voice has a bit of a choked off quality and his eyes are shining like he might be holding back tears, and truthfully, there’s a part of Harry that wants to go to him, soothe him, apologize to him. But instead he says, “I think you should leave.”

“What?” Louis croaks out, finally, placing Harry’s father’s funeral card back on his nightstand gently. He holds his hands up in surrender, approaching Harry slowly like he knows Harry’s ticking time bomb.

What _Harry_ knows is that the moment Louis touches him, the whole charade will be over, so he pushes back again.

“Louis, I didn’t tell you about my father because I don’t owe you anything.”

That stops Louis dead in his tracks a few feet away.

“What the fuck?”

“Don’t – don’t look at me like that, Louis.” Harry sighs, rolling his eyes as he finally reaches down for his underpants, pulling them up and adjusting himself before looking up at Louis again. “What?” he asks throwing his hands in the air. “Why are you looking at me like that? Did you actually think we were together? That we’ve been dating or something?” The laugh that bubbles out of Harry’s throat sounds hysterical even to himself.

Louis still hasn’t moved, is looking at Harry like he’s never seen him before in his life, and it just gives Harry the last little push he needs.

“What we’ve been having is sex. That’s it!” he punctuates each word, clapping his hands together. It’s condescending, and rude, and Harry feels like he’s watching himself do it from across the room – an out of body experience completely out of his own control.

A part of him wants Louis to fight back, wants Louis to call him out on it, on all of his bullshit, but Louis doesn’t. Instead, he does up his flies, slips on his shoes and walks past Harry without another word.

“Where are you going?” Harry yells after him.

There’s no fight, no screaming, no crying, not even a slamming door. Louis is out of his apartment and probably his life with the quietest snick Harry’s ever heard.

Suddenly the silence is heavy, like a physical weight on Harry’s chest, and he can’t stand it.

“Fuck!” he screams into the emptiness, pulling at his own hair and finally bursting into tears. “Fuckfuckfuck!” he chants quietly between hiccups. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

 

\-------

 

It’s been three days. Three awful-as-fuck days, and Harry hasn’t seen or heard a single thing from Louis since his apartment door closed that night. He’s drafted texts he never ends up sending, and has made it halfway to DiNamics on the nights he knew Louis was working, before he’s turned around to head straight back to his empty apartment.

It doesn’t improve his mood when he finds himself home alone more often than not, too. Apparently he’s been spending so much time at Louis’ place that he’s barely noticed a lack of Niall and Liam. It finally hits him one night, as he’s sitting alone in the apartment, and Liam comes in, very late and apologizing profusely because ‘work has been crazy and exhausting’.

Niall Harry doesn’t see until he has one foot out the door on Friday morning to head into work, and Niall rushes into the apartment.

“Hey!” Harry jumps, moving out of the way as Niall plows through, looking harried. “Where the hell have you been?” he tries really hard to keep his tone light.

“Huh?” Niall asks over his shoulder as he moves into his bedroom.

Harry opts to be a few minutes late to work, figuring maybe he’ll be able to catch up with his friend walking to work together since they’re currently working on different projects and have barely seen each other in the office as well. Following behind Niall, leaning against the open door as he watches his friend scurry around the room.  
  
“Just noticed you haven’t been around the last couple days, is all.” Harry continues, picking at his nails as he continues to play off nonchalance lest his neediness shine through.

“Hmm,” Niall hums, distracted as he pulls a duffel bag from his closet and starts opening drawers. “Yeah, works been crazy, you know how it is, ended up stayin’ with a friend the last couple nights since their place is closer. Didn’t think anyone would miss me.”

Harry nods along in understanding before he realizes Niall is packing a bag.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asks, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Niall does stop.

“Uh, yeah?” he says, looking at Harry like he has ten heads. “It’s the Friday before Memorial Day, Harry. You know I always go home a few days early to help my parents get ready for the party!”

“Oh!” Harry stammers, embarrassed because he hadn’t even realized that the holiday was this weekend.

“You’re coming, right?” Niall asks, not noticing Harry’s reaction, too involved in continuing to pack hurriedly. “It’s going to be sick, Greg’s ordered some kind of liquor that’s illegal in like, forty-six states, and the pools going to be open!” 

Harry doesn’t remember to respond until Niall looks up at him expectantly.

“Oh yeah, yes, I’ll definitely be there, I never miss the Annual Horan Family bash!”

It’s exactly what he needs. He’ll get away of the city, away from Louis, and clear his head.

“...Liam’s bringin’ Zayn with him.”

Wait, what?

“What, like as a date?” Harry asks, not doing a good job of keeping the surprise out of his voice.

Niall shrugs, like he couldn’t care less.

“Don’t know? Maybe?” Harry open’s his mouth to argue, or ask Niall why he’s so unconcerned about Liam maybe bringing a date when Niall says, “Hey! You should invite Lou! He’s a great time, it would be so fun!”

Harry’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click, causing Niall to stop what he’s doing and look back at him curiously.

“Louis isn’t in the picture anymore.” Harry answers, schooling his features into what he hopes resembles indifference.

Niall’s face shifts with a series of emotions, and Harry thinks he sees disappointment in there before Niall shrugs, zipping up his duffel and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Sorry about that, man.”

Harry just shrugs, following Niall out of his room and to the door like some kind of lost puppy.

It’s mostly silent as they make their way out of the building together, and Niall finally breaks it by pulling Harry into a side hug.

“I’ll see you at my parent’s on Sunday?” he asks.

Harry nods with a tight smile. “See you then.”

 

\-----

 

_Hey. I know we haven’t talked in a few days. Niall is having a party at his parents’ house on Sunday. Should be really fun. You should come. Let me know!_

It’s Sunday morning and Harry’s probably re-read the text he sent Louis on Friday night a thousand times. He opens their messenger conversation to see if Louis has responded – maybe he just missed the notification. Maybe the gray typing bubble will appear any second now.

He’s not really surprised that he never heard anything back, but he still can’t help looking at all of the faces at the train station, hoping that he might see Louis’ there.

The cookout is already in full swing at the Horans’ by the time Harry arrives, is mood improving almost instantly when Niall’s father comes rushing from behind the grills to greet Harry with a big hug and an ice cold beer.

Harry makes his way through all of the familiar faces. He greets what feels like a thousand people, but that’s what happens when you’ve been friends as long as Harry, Niall, and Liam have. It’s only when he finishes making the rounds that he realizes he has yet to actually see Niall.

“Harry!” Niall’s older brother Greg calls out, bouncing on the diving board, “Go get in your fucking bathing suit!”

Harry can’t help but laugh and wave, lifting his bag in confirmation and heading in the direction of the bathroom.

Harry opts to use the bathroom in the house rather than the one in the pool house, hoping he’ll avoid having to wait in a line, and hoping to find Niall in the meantime.

The bathroom door is shut, but when Harry jiggles the handle it’s unlocked, noting with a sigh of relief that the bathroom is in fact empty when he peeks around the door and pushes in. He tosses the bag containing his bathing suit, towel, and other things on the floor, and makes his way over to the toilet to relieve himself.

It’s only after he’s flushed and washed his hands, grabbing the towel that’s hanging over the shower curtain to dry them, that he sees Niall.

“What the fuck!” Harry shrieks, stumbling backwards with his hand clasped over his chest as Niall pulls the curtain back, waving his hands and trying to shush Harry even as his swim trunks are pulled down around his thighs.

Harry looks from Niall’s bright red face, to his dick, back to his face and then finally over to Hailee, who has snatched the towel Harry just used to wash his hands in order to wrap it around her body.

Harry’s mouth drops open. He’s sure it looks comical, but nothing about this situation seems funny.

“What are you doing!?” he yells, pointing an accusing finger at Niall.

Niall immediately puts his hands up, trying to placate Harry.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he starts, just as Hailee exasperatedly says, “What does it look like?”

The room goes still as Niall looks nervously from Harry to Hailee.

“Are you guys together then?!” Harry hisses in disbelief.

“No!” Niall answers quickly.

For the second time in too few minutes Niall and Hailee seem to be at odds, Hailee letting out an annoyed, “Yes!”

As Niall’s words register Hailee’s features turn stormy, and she quickly rounds on Niall.

“And what exactly would you call our relationship, then?”

“Ah-ha!” Harry screams, pointing at Niall. “I fuckin’ knew it!”

“Harry!” Niall shouts. “What the fuck?”

It’s in that instant that the bathroom door swings open. Harry can’t be sure whether the person on the other side had tried knocking first, but he isn’t shocked when it’s Liam standing on the other side of the door, eyes wide.

“What the fuck are you all screaming about!” he asks, moving into the room and swinging the door mostly closed behind him. “I could hear you assholes all the way downstairs!”

“Niall is a liar!” Harry shouts, pointing an accusing finger in the direction of Niall, who is desperately trying to soothe a visibly angry Hailee.

“Niall?” Liam asks, seeming to only just notice that Hailee is struggling back into her swimsuit as Niall fusses around her.

If Harry weren’t so angry, he might’ve laughed at Liam’s next statement.

“Niall, I can see your cock.” is followed in quick succession by an understanding, “Oh!”

“See!” Harry gestures toward Niall and Hailee passionately. “Liar! He’s in a relationship, he broke the pact!”

“Harry!” Niall screams, reaching over to grab Harry by the arm and shake him.

“Pact?” Hailee’s voice interrupts angrily. “What the fuck?” she hisses, pulling a beach cover-up over her head and glaring at Niall before moving into Niall’s space to punch his arm hard. “You’re a fucking asshole!” she whisper-yells through gritted teeth, quickly disappearing through the door.

“Ouch!” Niall cries out, reaching for the door to chase after her.

Liam intervenes, stepping in front of him.

“Give her a minute, Niall.” he says soothingly, before rounding on Harry with a disappointed look and a finger pointed about an inch from his nose. “You are out of line!”

“What!” Harry gasps, “Me!? We were supposed to be in this together!”

“Oh for fucks sake Harry!” Liam groans, letting his back slam against the door and rubbing his hands over his face. “I think we’re all guilty of breaking the pact, don’t you?”

“What?” Harry squints his eyes warily at Liam. “I haven’t.”

Both Liam and Niall look at Harry like they want to argue – actually Niall looks like he wants to strangle him – but that’s not the point. The point is his friends are fucking liars!

Liam blows out a long suffering sigh.

“Well, I was going to wait to have a proper conversation with the two of you about this, but looks like it’s going to have to be now. I’ve been seeing Sofia again.”

“What!” Both Harry and Niall gasp in unison, their differences temporarily put on hold as they turn on Liam.

“I can’t believe you’re giving her another chance!” Niall groans, shaking his head.

“She fucking cheated on you!” Harry scolds.

Liam holds up his hands defensively.

“I know. I know it doesn’t make any sense and I know what she did is wrong, but she’s my wife. I married her, and I made vows to her and I think I owe it to myself and my marriage to I do whatever I can to try and make it work.”

“Well I think your an idiot.” Harry answers.

Niall just shakes his head in disgust.

“Liam, I’d say the promises and vows you made to one another were shot to shit the day she let the lawyer fuck her while you were at work.”

“Niall!” Liam gasps, hurt.

“Well, I think you’re both fucking idiots, and fucking liars on top of it.” Harry sneers, not caring how childish he knows he sounds. “I’m out of here.” he says, turning on his heel and pushing past both Niall and Liam to pull open the door.

“Hi.” A quiet voice with a beautiful face greets on the other side.

“Holy shit!” Harry shouts, jumping backwards and bumping into Niall and Liam who were hot on his heels, “Zayn, shit! I didn’t know you were coming! You scared me!”

“Yeah.” Zayn smiles sadly. “I’m here.” he’s looking over Harry’s shoulder at Liam.

“Hey, Niall. You have a beautiful home.” Zayn continues to greet Niall, never taking his eyes off of Liam.

It feels very much like the calm before the storm. Liam looks like he might vomit, cry, or both.

“Thank you.” Niall answers, tone quiet but bewildered. He, takes a step back to put space between himself and Liam.

“Liam.” Zayn says cooly. “Could I speak to you privately for a moment? It sounds like we have a few things we need to discuss. You haven’t been completely honest with me.”

Niall and Harry both move out of the way as they watch their friend visibly deflate under Zayn’s stare.

“Yeah, come in.” Liam answers quietly, moving aside so Zayn can walk into the bathroom. “I’ll see you guys back home.” is the last thing any of them say to one another, as Liam closes and locks the door with a firm ‘click’.

 

**Present**

  
Harry’s sitting on the closed lid of the toilet seat, head cradled in his hands, thoughts on a constant loop of destruction until there’s a quiet knock on the door.

“You alright?” Niall’s voice murmurs from the other side.

“Yeah.” Harry answers, rubbing his hands over his eyes a few times.

“C’mon then,” he says, his tone still defeated. “Let’s get out of here and give them some space.”

Harry can’t help but heave a sigh. It only makes him feel slightly better that Niall seems just as put out by the idea of leaving as he does. Harry finally his assent and opens the door.

He’s grateful that Zayn and Liam seem to have slipped into one of the bedrooms, though it doesn’t stop him from hearing the strain in their voices. He an Niall don’t make eye contact as they grab their jackets and wallets and head out the door.

“This is shit.” Niall huffs out as they exit their building. The natural light highlights the red rims around Niall’s eyes, a stark contrast to his pale skin. The sight makes Harry’s stomach ache.

He nods his head in agreement but opts to follow half a step behind, head bent and kicking a pebble as they make their way to a coffee shop around the corner.

It isn’t until they’ve settled at a table by the cafe’s window, both of them holding onto their steaming mugs like some kind of lifeline, that Harry finally musters enough courage to say what needs to be said.

“I’m sorry about you and Hailee.” he apologizes.

He’d been out of his mind the day of the cookout. What had happened with Louis, not hearing from him, showing up to the party and then finding out the way he had about Niall and Hailee had pushed him over the edge. By the time he’d arrived back at their apartment that night he was already so embarrassed about how he’d behaved, but still felt like his anger was justified.

It’s funny how quickly things can change – _feelings_ can change – when you’re faced with the truth.

Harry had been jealous – bitter, and jealous, and angry because Niall was happy and with someone and Harry had been so, so blind, so focused on their pact to stay single that he hadn’t stopped to think about why it had been so important to him.

They’d all made mistakes in their own ways, they’d all hurt someone they cared about: a friend, a lover, a significant other; and now they were all paying the price. But Harry knows he needs to acknowledge the role he played in what happened between Niall and Hailee especially, and now that he’s out of the house and finally breathing some fresh air, he has a moment of clarity.

He hopes that Zayn reaching out to Liam is the beginning of a reconciliation. The least he can do is try to help Niall get there too – and then, if he’s lucky, maybe someday karma will take pity on him and Louis will forgive him, too.

Niall takes a sip of his coffee, scrunching his nose at the heat still radiating off of it, and placing it carefully in front of himself again, his eyes downcast as he responds with a tight smile.

“Thank you, you were out of line.”

Harry nods, but doesn’t try to interrupt as Niall continues.

“It was my fault too, though.” He’s looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully, running his hands through his hair. “You know what gets me the most though? Like, I’ve replayed the scene over and over again in my head and I just can’t believe – ” he cackles maniacally, just thinking about it. “I can’t believe that I let you and Liam – the pact – get to my head when I didn’t even really care about it anymore.”He smiles sadly looking at Harry. “I like her so much, man. I can’t believe how badly I fucked up.”

“I have to say.” Harry smiles sheepishly. “I never expected it to be Hails in that shower stall with you.” Harry can’t help laughing at Niall’s indignant look, holding his hands up to defend himself from the crumpled napkin Niall throws at his face. “Let me finish, let me finish! I just mean, we’ve known Hailee for a while and it never seemed like anything more than platonic friendship with you two? I mean she was literally your wingwoman almost every night we went to DiNamics.”

Niall smiles then.

“Yeah it just kind of happened, I guess?”

“Tell me about it?” Harry asks, blowing on his drink before finally taking a sip.

“Um, there’s not much to tell, really.” Niall says with a shrug.

There’s a fond smile playing on his lips that makes it obvious he’s probably downplaying his feelings for Harry’s sake. Harry makes a ‘go on’ motion with his hands.

“So one night – actually it wasn’t that long after you started seeing Lou – Liam and I had gone to the club. Liam left with Zayn and I was chatting to Hails and she kept on looking over at this really good looking guy that was doin’ the open mic, and I got a little jealous, but thought maybe it was a one off, ya know? But when I told her she should go for it, she just kind of laughed it off. And then when she asked me if there was anyone I had my eye on, I realized she’s been the only thing I’ve noticed there in weeks. Then I realized that she’s only reason I ever even go to the club anymore. I asked her if she wanted to come back to ours to hang out and she did, and we just had a blast talking and joking around.”

His smile is nostalgic and bright as he admits, “We didn’t even kiss the first couple nights we hung out. We didn’t have sex until like a month ago. I just love being around her, you know? She’s a bright spot.”

“You need to tell her that.” Harry comments earnestly.

Niall hunches in on himself.

“I’ve tried calling and sending her texts, asking her to talk to me. She’s not responding and I’m too chicken shit to just show up.”

Harry nods. He can relate to that.

He clears his throat before asking the next question. “Do you think you might love her?”

The question is barely out of Harry’s mouth when Niall is already nodding.

“I do. Yeah, I think I might be in love with her, too. I don’t know. It’s really scary and confusing, but she’s different. There’s just something about her. Something worth fighting for.”

“You need to tell her, Niall.” Harry pleads. “I mean there has to be something you can do that will make her listen, make her understand.”

“Yeah.” Niall says, taking a log swig of his drink.

Harry watches Niall as he hypes himself up before slamming his empty mug on the table and shouting, “You’re right!”

“Damn right I am!” Harry crows, earning them both a few irritated glances from the baristas and fellow patrons. “What are you going to do!?” Harry asks, excited about the prospect of Niall going and getting his girl.

“I don’t know!” Niall answers with a shrug, standing up from his seat with nervous energy radiating off of him. “I guess I’m just gonna try my luck and go over to her place and tell her I’m in love with her.”

It feels like every time Niall says the word ‘love’, more and more of his distress just rolls right off his shoulders. Harry imagines that if he keeps it up, he might just start floating. The image makes him smile. Niall deserves this – deserves happiness.

“Well,” Harry says with a shrug and a nod toward the door. “What the fuck are you standing here talking to me for? Go and get your girl!”

Niall beams and nods, catching Harry in a tight bear hug before he rushes out the door. He only turns around once as he’s stepping onto the street shouting a giddy, “Wish me luck!”

Harry hears the screeching tires and the look on Niall’s face change before what’s happening dawns on him, watching in horror as a taxi collides with Niall, tossing him like a rag doll onto the street.

 

\-----

  
  
“You are a fucking idiot!” Liam seethes, “Did no one ever teach you to look both ways before you step into the street? You could have been killed!”

Niall barely bats an eye as he reaches for the jello one of the nurses just brought in. To be fair, he does look a lot worse off than he is. He’s lucky that the cab driver had hit the breaks fast enough – the collision more like a tap, even if that tap _did_ render him unconscious throughout the entire ambulance ride, and left him with a broken leg.

“I know, Payno.” Niall hushes Liam. “But I’m fine, look at me. Like a cat with nine lives.”

Liam groans in disbelief but laughs. “You had us worried sick. Please for the love of God be careful from now on.”

“I promise.” Niall agrees, holding his hand up in a pledge sign.

“So,” Harry starts, holding out the ‘o’ until Liam turns to look at him questioningly. “How’d everything go with Zayn today?”

Niall nods vehemently from his bed, his mouth too full of jello to verbally proclaim how much he wanted to know, too.

“Good.” Liam answers with a hopeful smile. “We talked for a while. Obviously the beginning of the conversation wasn’t great. He called me out on a lot of stuff that I obviously didn’t really like hearing...but I needed to hear it. The day we got into it at the Horans’ he had called me out for leading him on, and at the time I had denied it. I’d been honest with him about what had happened between me and Sofia, and that I just really needed somebody to talk to. About a month after I moved in with you guys Sofia reached out to me. She told me she was having regrets, and second thoughts, and wanted to talk, and I went. Of course I never told Zayn. In retrospect it was very much a ‘have my cake and eat it too situation.”

Niall and Harry nod along as Liam continues, a flush materializing on his neck.

“Anyway, um, when Zayn came by today he wanted to apologize to me, too. He admitted that he had feelings for me and was hoping that by helping me get through this, it might mean something could happen for us in the future. So we were both in the wrong to some degree, but I’m taking most of the blame.”

“So what does all of that mean?” Niall asks quietly.

“Um, it means that we agreed that now isn’t the best time for me to be starting something new with anyone, so for now Zayn and I are going to work on our friendship. Obviously, I don’t know when I’ll be ready, but I hope that when I am he’s still willing to consider me.”

“Does that mean what I think it means?” Harry asks, unable to keep the hopeful excitement from his voice.

Liam smiles ruefully, “Yes,” he sighs. “Try to save the fist bumps for after I leave the room, but long story short, I’ve had a lot of time for soul searching lately.” he pauses, looking between Niall and Harry dramatically. “I’ve realized that as much as I love Sofia, because, yes – I _do_ love her – I don’t think I’d ever be able to fully forgive her for what she did to me, to us, and I know I’d never trust her again. I let her know this afternoon that I’m going to officially file for a divorce. I don’t want to build my home on a cracked foundation.”

“I’m so proud of you, Li.” Harry murmurs, pulling his friend into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this, but I’m so proud of you for thinking about yourself.”

They pull apart to Niall’s indignant, “Hey! No fair, I want to hug it out too!”

With the emotional spell broken, Harry and Liam laugh and move to make their way into Niall’s space, when there’s a audible commotion in the hallway. And then the hospital room door is swinging open, Hailee is spilling into the room like a whirlwind.

“Are you okay?” she cries, when she sees Niall, rushing over to take his face in her hands. “I came as soon as Zayn called me.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I promise!” Niall tries to soothe her, wiping the tears off her cheeks as fast as they can fall.

“What were you doing? What happened?” she asks, choking back a sob when she notes Niall’s left leg propped up with a cast from his toe to his hip.

Niall doesn’t hesitate for a second. “I was on my way to you. To apologize, to tell you you’re the only thing I want. That I love you.”

“I love you too.” Hailee gushes, grabbing Niall’s face and pulling him in for a kiss. “Next time you want to make a grand gesture, please try not to die.”

“I promise.” Niall chuckles, pulling Hailee in for another deep kiss.

 

\-----

  
  
It’s late when Harry finally leaves the hospital. Liam had gone back to his shift, and Harry wanted to give Hailee and Niall the privacy they deserved to really talk everything out.

He’s happy for his friends, Niall with his happy ending and Liam with his new beginning. They both deserve happiness, and it’s finally time for Harry to acknowledge that he deserves it, too. So instead of flagging down a cab and heading back to his empty, messy, smelly apartment, he decides to make his way across town to another apartment – to the person he’s finally able to admit felt like home.

It takes him thirty minutes to get there and when he does, he’s disappointed when he notices that the windows to Louis apartment are pitch black. Either he’s sleeping or he’s not home, and Harry selfishly hopes that regardless of which is true, that Louis is alone. Harry hovers on the sidewalk, trying to decide how desperate he’ll look sitting on Louis’ stoop when he comes home, when he remembers the place Louis had taken him across the street.   
  
He quickly changes course and makes his way into the small park and over to Louis’ thinking bench.

_I’d like to apologize and explain myself. I hope you’ll let me. I’ll be waiting on the bench for as long as it takes, or until you tell me no._

It’s two a.m. and Harry’s been waiting on the bench for three hours. He’s fucking freezing. Louis’ apartment is still dark, and Harry’s phone has yet ring or chime with a text.

It’s only as he’s losing his last shreds of hope that he hears the soft rustling sound of someone moving through the brush. He looks up in time to lock eyes with Louis. Harry’s heart leaps upon seeing him again after so long – the same Louis he’s been falling for over the last few months, who he’s tried so hard to keep at arm’s length. He came.

The song in Harry’s heart dies pretty quickly when he sees the way Louis is looking at him. Harry’s never seen that look on his face before – a searing hot mix of anger, hurt, and defensiveness. Harry opens his mouth to speak, a fountain of apologies ready to spill of his tongue.

Louis beats him to it.

“What are you doing here, Harry?”

There’s no smile, none of the usual, familiar warmth that emanates from him. He’s completely closed off. Harry imagines Louis physically holding it back, keeping his emotions close to his chest in the way that he hugs his arms protectively around him.

“I – I came because I wanted to apologize. For the way I treated you, for how I acted – ”

Louis cuts him off. “No, I know why you came to see me, I got your text. Why are you in here?” he asks, agitated as he swings his arms out gesturing to the small park they’re in. “You don’t get to come here anymore. Your invitation is revoked. Don’t you get it? This place is mine – it’s a piece of me that I once shared with you and you don’t get any part of me anymore. Stop trying to steal pieces of me you don’t deserve.”

It hurts, it hurts more than he expects it to, the sting of Louis’ words and what they mean instantly making his throat constrict and his eyes well. He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crumbling right then and there, as he stands from the bench abruptly.

“You’re right.” he chokes out quickly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here. Let’s go - we can go somewhere else.” Harry stammers awkwardly.

He has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

Louis must have the same realization because he softens infinitesimally, shakes his head and moves forward cautiously. “No. Sit down, we’re here already here.”

Harry watches Louis warily, waiting to take his cues from him. It comes once Louis seats himself on the bench. He pats the spot next to him, and Harry is relieved – even if it’s far enough away that no part of them will accidentally brush.

“Thank you.” Harry whispers, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.

“You’re welcome.” Louis murmurs back, watching Harry with a patience Harry knows he doesn’t deserve.

Harry takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly before looking into Louis eyes with all of the sincerity he has.

“Louis, I’m so incredibly sorry for the way I treated you – not even just that night, but the whole time we were together. I treated what we had like it was something that didn’t matter to me because I was afraid of how _much_ it mattered to me. You should know that I regretted my actions as soon as you walked out of the door, but I was so scared.” he pauses trying organize his thoughts. “The things is, I’m still scared. I’m terrified, but seeing Niall get hit by that cab today made me realize how quickly things can change and I knew I needed to tell you – ”

Louis interrupts him with a horrified gasp.

“What?!” Harry asks, confused.

“Niall!” Louis exclaims. “Is he okay?!” he asks full of concern.

“Yes! Oh yes, I’m so sorry!” Harry clarifies quickly. “He’s fine, he’s okay. I mean he did get knocked out and he has a broken leg, but he’s fine!”

Louis let's of a relieved breath and relaxes

“Probably should have started with that bit of information, Jesus Christ!”

Harry can’t help the inappropriate laugh that slips out.

“I’m so sorry!” he giggles, slapping his hand over his mouth.

It effectively breaks the remaining tension between them when Louis starts laughing too.

“I’m a nervous giggler.” Louis admits, trying to regain control.

Harry smiles. “Yeah, me too.”

It takes another couple moments before they’re both calm enough to continue. 

“So, Niall gets hit by a cab and you realize that you need to talk to me?” Louis asks, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Harry.

Harry shakes his head, aggravated that he can’t seem to find the right words.

“Something like that.The truth is, I wasn’t looking for anything when I met you. I was quite literally doing the opposite of looking for something. You probably know about it by now, but right before I met you, Niall, Liam and I made a pact that none of us were going to get into a relationship.”

Louis nods in understanding. “Zayn told me about what happened at the Horans’.”

Harry groans, pressing his face into his hands.

“I’m so sorry.” he doesn’t know how many times he’s said it, or how many more times it’ll take to make any kind of difference, but he can’t leave, he can’t walk away until Louis at least understands _why._ “It wasn’t about how many people we could sleep with, it wasn’t meant to hurt anyone. Liam was going through this awful thing and Niall and I were both single and we thought it was just going to be no strings attached fun – and it seems so foolish now because as soon as I saw you I knew – _I knew_ , once would never be enough.”

Louis’ face softens, his eyes never leaving Harry’s as he listens quietly, and it gives Harry the courage he needs to continue, shrugging nervously with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Uhm, as you can probably tell, I’m a bit of a mess?”

Louis has the decency to not agree, even if Harry knows he does by the slight quirk of his lips.

“I’ve always been a bit of a commitment-phobe if I’m honest, and I’ve probably unintentionally hurt a lot of people because of it. When my father died, it was so sudden, and we were devastated – but watching my mother grieve the love of her life was… gut wrenching? I didn’t think I was strong enough for that, so I just kind of decided then and there that I didn’t want to ever have to do that.”

“Harry…” Louis says softly, as he reaches out slowly to touch his wrist. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Thank you.” Harry sighs. “I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to use this sob story to get you to feel bad for me. That’s not why I’m telling you, I just want you to understand why I did the things I did. I’m not justifying my behavior, I just need you to know.”

Louis nods his head in understanding, and Harry allows a wisp of hope to take root in his heart when Louis doesn’t remove his hand, instead giving Harry’s a small, reassuring squeeze.

“Anyway, my mother had wanted me to talk to someone, but I didn’t want to talk about it at all. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything when you told me about your mother. A part of me wanted to – wanted to tell you that I understood but I couldn’t find the words. I didn’t know how, and I wasn’t ready. I’m still not quite ready, but I’m getting there.”

Louis nods and says quietly, “I understand. I’m sorry that I blindsided you with questions the other night. I can see how it might have come off as an attack. I didn’t mean for it to.”

“It’s okay, Lou. Someone normal would have talked it out, instead of just reacting”

“Grief and fear can make even the most sensible people act crazy sometimes.” Louis responds.

“I suppose you’re right.” Harry laughs sadly, “Regardless, I’m sorry for everything. I treated you like you were disposable. I hope you know that you’re not. I think you’re wonderful and anyone who gets to call you theirs is lucky.”

“Thank you.” Louis says quietly. “And thank you for telling me everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

It’s so late – or early – that the only sounds besides their breaths are the soft rustle of the leaves, the quiet chirps of the early birds, and the occasional car; small reminders of where they really are.

Not for the first time – tonight, or even on this bench – Harry is at a loss for how to move forward. Maybe Louis doesn’t know how to, either..

“It’s so late.” Harry finally sighs, looking up at the sky that’s already tinted with dawn. “I’m sorry I kept you out all night.” He realizes for the first time how stiff and tired his body feels when from the bench slowly, , stretching, the weight of his exhaustion hitting him all at once.

He turns to extend his hand out to Louis, to help pull him up from the bench so he can walk him to his door. He revels in the warmth of Louis’ hand in his, and how, even now, after everything, it feels familiar – like they fit. He considers for a moment, considers maybe trying to keep ahold of it while they walk, but he doesn’t want to push his luck, releasing his grip as soon as Louis standing sturdily next to him.

Harry stops at the steps leading up to Louis’ door, leaning against the railing and watching Louis walk away from him. At that moment, he can’t help but ask, even though he’s terrified of the answer.

“Can I see you again?” he says nervously, wringing his hands when Louis turns around to look at him curiously.

“I’d like that.” he answers with a soft smile, leaning his back against the door.

“Tomorrow night?” Harry tries, finally regaining a bit of his footing. “Can I take you out tomorrow night, like on a proper date?”

Louis’ eyes crinkle when he smiles, and he lets his head hit the door behind him.

“I’d love to go on a date with you tomorrow, Harry.”

“Really!?” Harry beams, can’t help the little dance he does in place, making Louis burst into bright laughter.

“Really!’ he answers, voice sure. “I can’t wait.”

“Me either, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Harry smiles. He waves a little as he makes to start walking toward the road, hoping he hasn’t missed his opportunity to get a cab.

“Uh, Harry?” Louis asks sounding concerned. “Where are you going?”

Harry turns and looks at him curiously. “Home?”

Louis crosses his arms over his chest and pops a hip out.

“Do you actually think I’m letting you out of my sight right now?” he asks in disbelief. “Come to bed!” he laughs, hopping down the stairs to grab Harry’s arm, using it as the leverage he needs to come up on his toes and press his forehead to Harry’s, looking from Harry’s eyes to his mouth.

“Can I have a kiss??” he asks quietly, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“You can have everything.” Harry sighs into Louis’ mouth, as he finally allows himself to have everything too, allows himself to be happy. To be with _Louis._

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work please let me know with some kudos or comments! Thank you for reading :)


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